State of Mind
by Cordite Quill
Summary: Sarah finds herself alone during Christmas and makes a foolish wish. Now, surrounded by caroling goblins, insane chickens, and all the magic of the Underground, not to mention a certain Goblin King, can she survive the holidays in one piece?
1. Be Careful What You Wish For

**Chapter One: Be Careful What You Wish For**

Sarah grabbed the railing of the bridge and tilted her head up towards the sky. "Do you think they'll start soon?" she asked, her eyes scanning the horizon.

Next to her stood Jennifer, her best friend from her college days, wearing a thick coat and a bright, pink scarf. She had wrapped a section of the scarf around her head to shield her ears from the bitter cold. It was Christmas evening, nine o'clock, on the Town Lake Bridge, which had been closed down for the fireworks. People clustered all along the bridge until they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. Sarah had been lucky, finding just enough room for her and Jennifer to stand next to each other. It was a perfect spot.

"Yeah, I mean, it's dark," Jennifer said, rubbing her hands together and putting them under her armpits to try and warm them up. "My god, it's freezing! If only I'd known…!"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I told you it was going to be cold. I'm wearing fricking long johns."

"Long johns aren't sexy," Jennifer said with a sniff. "Plus, I don't think it's called 'long johns' for women, is it?"

Sarah blinked. "I don't know." Since the conversation was becoming ridiculous, she let it drop. Instead, she turned to look back over the Town Lake Bridge. The lake was manmade, simply canal water that had been relocated to this area and collected. However, it was very pretty, especially during this time of year; the city decorated the bridge with lights, which were now turned off to allow maximum viewing of the fireworks. The water looked inky black at nighttime and when Sarah looked down at it, she felt vertigo slice through her body until she had to look away.

She readjusted her own scarf around her neck. When she and Jennifer had decided to go to the Christmas fireworks event, she'd decided to bundle up for warmth. It was a surprisingly cold night, even if there was no breeze (a small blessing). She had worn a blue and white ski cap low over her ears, a matching scarf, matching gloves, and a long-sleeved shirt over a sweater over a thick Peabody coat, jeans, her long johns, and boots with faux fur lining. In fact, her body felt a little warm even if her nose was freezing cold.

_Long johns aren't sexy, huh? _She thought. _Well, it's not like I'm going to be showing anyone my underwear. _She glanced over at Jennifer and wondered why her friend cared. They were spending Christmas together because they had no one else to spend it with—not that Sarah minded Jennifer's company, but Christmas was meant to be spent with family. Or, at least, that's what Sarah had always been led to believe. Except this year it was just her, and when faced with the depressing notion of cooking a Christmas feast for one, she'd called Jennifer up and asked if they could spend the holiday together. Jennifer had just broken up with her boyfriend of five years and moved out of the apartment they'd shared and found a new place near the Town Lake Bridge. She hadn't wanted to spend Christmas alone, either, and suggested Sarah stay for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. "It'll be like a sleepover!" Jennifer had said. "We'll exchange gifts. I already have a tree. We'll cook a huge meal. It'll be great!" Sarah had been only too happy to agree. Jennifer had also found out about this event and suggested they go.

Sarah was glad she'd agreed. Although she didn't like crowds—and having people pressed close to her was making her nervous—she was excited to see the fireworks.

"This was a good idea," she said, glancing at Jennifer.

"I know, right? I haven't seen fireworks in ages. I usually miss the Fourth of July ones," Jennifer said. "The events section of the newspaper also said they're doing an 'encore' firework display on New Year's at midnight."

"Maybe we should go."

"Maybe…"

Sarah glanced towards Jennifer, wondering why her friend suddenly sounded preoccupied, and saw that Jennifer was looking behind her into the crowd. Sarah followed her friend's gaze. Some ways away, a vendor was pushing what looked like a hot dog stand through the crowd, carefully navigating from one space to the next. A young couple came up to him, smiling, and he stopped the cart. While he did sell hot dogs, he also poured something out of what looked like a giant thermos with a spigot at the bottom into two Styrofoam cups. By the amount of steam that came out of the cups, she knew that the beverage was hot—probably cocoa or coffee.

"Oh, something warm," Jennifer said, longingly. "I'm going to grab a cup. Do you want anything?"

"No, thanks."

Sarah watched Jennifer navigate through the crowd for a moment, then turned back to the railing. She leaned her hands on it and rested her chin on an arm, looking out over the pretty scenery. In the distance, she could make out the highway. Cars zipped back and forth along it, the glow of their headlights the only thing that could be seen.

Well, this year was nearly to a close and it had been both exciting and dreadfully boring. It was her first full year out of school; her twenty-fifth birthday had come and gone with only a whimper instead of a bang. In fact, she'd been working so much at her new job she'd almost forgotten to celebrate. _The first sign of getting old, _Sarah thought, amused, _when you stop celebrating your birthday. _She had always made sure to celebrate, so despite her high stress levels, the overtime, and the fact she'd had to get up early the next morning, she'd spent the night playing pool and drinking with friends. They'd even bought her a cake and had sung to her. She'd woken late and hung over; in the end, she'd called in sick.

Her boss hadn't been happy with that, but then the dried prune of a lady was never happy with Sarah.

_I don't want to think about work right now, _Sarah reminded herself. _I took two weeks off, despite Prune Lady's protests, and I'm going to enjoy myself! I've earned this! I've worked hard all year; I've done 65 hour weeks. I've towed the line. I've done excellent work. I deserve to reward myself and enjoy myself. I mean, it's Christmas!_

"Oh look!" a young woman next to her said, pointing up at the sky. "A shooting star!"

"I see it!" the boyfriend said, a dazzling smile on his face. "Make a wish, quick!"

Sarah looked at the couple. They were pressed against each other, intimacy and affection in their body language. The boyfriend had average looks, but a beautiful smile, and he had wrapped his arms around the young woman who was leaning back against him with a huge grin. Sarah felt a small tug of longing in her chest and sighed, looking up at the sky and seeing just the tail-end of the shooting star before it faded away. She didn't mind being single and she'd never minded being alone—she'd spent many hours of her childhood alone in a world of make-believe, after all—but every once in a while she felt such a sudden _longing_ that it nearly took her breath away.

She didn't miss her ex-boyfriends; in fact, she rarely thought of them. However, she did miss the days of her childhood when she'd spent hours imagining magical quests and princes that needed rescuing—she was always the princess who could battle the villain and win. She missed believing in magic. She even missed…

_The Labyrinth, _Sarah thought, with longing, her eyes searching the night sky. The chilly night seemed to be holding its breath, waiting for magic to appear; this was the perfect place for goblins to skip and weave along the crowd, giggling mischievously. Or maybe there should be mermaids in the lake, looking up through the dark waters with mysterious smiles. Or a dragon should fly across the sky, blotting out stars.

It just seemed like a night for the fantastical to happen.

But it wouldn't. Sarah had come back from the Labyrinth all those years ago, at the age of fifteen, and when she'd given her teddy bear to Toby something inside her had changed. Despite Hoggle's words, she'd never been able to contact that strange world again and after so many years, she only had the memories of the Underground and even those were fuzzy and faded.

_Oh, but I wish something fantastical and magical would happen, _Sarah thought, sighing. And her lips formed the words, "I wish…" even as she thought it.

Someone bumped into her, bringing her back to the present. She glanced over her shoulder and met the sheepish gaze of a young man with a goatee. He smiled and said, "Sorry about that," then continued through the crowd. Sarah glanced at her watch. It was nearly ten o'clock. Where was Jennifer?

Sarah was contemplating leaving her spot, which would mean someone would take it, and going to find her friend when she saw a flash of green near the feet of the couple next to her and turned towards it, trying to identify what it was. However, she couldn't see anything. The young woman glanced at her, frowning, no doubt wondering why she was staring so intently at her feet and Sarah quickly looked away.

A moment later, she heard a chortling noise. It was high-pitched, as if it came from a child, yet it was unlike anything Sarah had ever heard a human utter before. It floated around her and she couldn't identify what direction the chortling noise came from. Goosebumps erupted along her arms, underneath all the layers of clothing.

"What a cold night," a familiar, accented voice said. "Strange night to suddenly decide to meet again."

Sarah froze, her gaze locked on the water below. There wasn't a single ripple and the lake looked like an expanse of black glass, reflecting the starlight, but Sarah didn't notice. Her mind was going a mile a minute, mostly from shock and fright, as that voice sparked memories long buried in her mind. The clipped, arrogant tone; the accent she'd always thought of as "fairytale British," something more out of movies than real life; the low, aggressively male cadence—it was all familiar.

Licking suddenly dry lips, Sarah slowly looked to her right. Before, there had been the couple there, but now they seemed to have moved away—or maybe they had never been there to begin with. Now, a lanky man stood, leaning forward with his arms resting on the railing. His face was in profile since he was looking out over the lake, but Sarah saw pale skin and golden blonde hair cut in a short, punk style that stuck up in unruly tufts, shorter in the back than the front. Tendrils of that blonde hair touched the man's chin, accentuating the curve of a stubborn jaw-line. He had a double breasted overcoat and what looked like black leather pants with biker boots. His hands were gloved, but he lacked a scarf or anything to protect his head from the chill.

He turned to Sarah and in the dim street lights she saw that his eyes were two different colors: one light, the other dark. He grinned at her, showing off perfect white teeth, the canines a little too pointy for comfort. It was a predatory grin, like a wolf that has just spied a rabbit and knows he won't go hungry this night. Sarah felt shivers run down her spine.

Her mind provided her with memories, things she'd oftentimes thought about over the past ten years. But, before they had been faded; now, with this familiar man standing before her, the memories suddenly became vivid—alive:

…_Standing on the crest of a hill, overlooking a beautiful but horrific labyrinth that stretched out for as far as the eye could see. A beautiful man standing next to her, with the same golden hair, but it was longer and much more flamboyant in style. And standing next to him is a young girl with long black hair wearing simple jeans and a poet's shirt._

"_It doesn't look that far," the young girl, the young _Sarah_, says._

"_It's further than you think. Time is short. You have 13 hours in which to solve the Labyrinth or your baby brother becomes one of us…forever. Such a pity."_

Sarah blinked, gasping as her memories clicked into place and she remembered a name to go with that beautiful, wild, predatory face. She gasped again, taking a step back, and said, "I know you! Jareth, the Goblin King!"

Jareth's grin grew wider, as if he was pleased Sarah had remembered his name. He gave a small nod in greeting, acknowledging both the name and their past.

"What are you _doing _here?" Sarah said.

Jareth sighed softly and his smile faded. He looked almost disappointed. "Don't you know, Sarah?" he asked. "Don't you know the saying—be careful what you wish for?"

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Hello my pretties! Well, I wanted to do a "Christmas-y" story and the more I thought of it, the more I knew I _also_ wanted to make it a Labby fanfic with plenty of yummy Jareth goodness, with a touch of goblin madness, a dash of chicken insanity, a liberal sprinkling of mirth and humor, and finished off with generous amounts of adult-type touching. A recipe for some tasty treats, if I do say so myself!

So, here's the deal: the story takes place from Christmas Day to New Year's and following the same thread, I will try to complete this story in the same time line! This may mean I have to update nearly every day until the 1st of the new year. I am not sure if I'm a glutton for punishment or not. _ I'd like to get the next update up by the 26th, but as I'm currently visiting relatives for the holidays, I may not have the next installment ready until the end of this weekend.

I'm sorry for any mistakes in this chapter. I tried to polish it up as best I could, but I pounded this first chapter out quickly and, as I mentioned, I'm visiting relatives so my mind may be a bit...flighty.

**Interesting Tidbit:** The title (and idea) for this fanfic comes from a quote I read recently: _Christmas, children, is not a date. It is a state of mind. ~Mary Ellen Chase_

**Interesting Tidbit #2:** I own a pair of long johns (or thermal underwear) despite the fact I live in the desert. XD

_**Please review!!~**_ Consider it my Christmas gift. ;) Seriously, though, reviews really encourage me and help me out, they're like bread and butter to my starved inner writer. :D All comments/questions/suggestions are welcome, including any predictions you may have (even hopeful ones, like ditching Jennifer and going back to her place for some private time with the Goblin King).

**The Fine Print:** In regards to the Labyrinth and its characters, I own nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zippo. I wish I owned Jareth *cough*ahem*cough*. I only claim rights to my own original characters.


	2. Beware Gifts from Goblin Kings

**Chapter Two: Beware Gifts from Goblin Kings**

Sarah snorted. "A little cliché, don't you think, Jareth?" She purposefully turned away from him, looking back over the lake, as if to say, _you don't scare me_. "Especially on Christmas, when there's so many people wishing for so many things."

Jareth shrugged. "Cliché or not, it is good advice." He turned towards her, leaning closer, and Sarah kept looking at him from the corner of her eye. She told herself that it was because she didn't trust him, not because he drew her attention like a moth to a flame—after all, who knew what Jareth would do if given the chance? Granted, Toby wasn't here to be stolen away, but there were other babies, other children.

"What are you doing here, Jareth?" Sarah asked, unsatisfied with his previous answer. "Working? Got some baby stealing to do? Or maybe you just want to chuck some snakes at some unsuspecting girl?"

"Really, Sarah, distrust doesn't suit you. And here I thought we were _old_ friends." Jareth tilted his head back, regarding her, and finally Sarah turned around and met his gaze.

"As far as I know, we're not friends," she said.

Jareth didn't reply, but if her words stung, his expression didn't show it. In fact, he seemed more amused if anything, his lips quirking up into a small, secretive smile. It gave Sarah a jolt and she had to admit to herself that the Goblin King was very handsome. Why hadn't she noticed that before? It was a shock to be faced with the truth of Jareth's otherworldly beauty—she felt almost betrayed by her memories, because they didn't do Jareth justice.

The Goblin King was an angular, lean man. His beauty wasn't usual—wasn't _human—_it was harsh and wild and dangerous. His high cheekbones accentuated his tilted eyes, which were rimmed with thick lashes several shades darker than his hair. His lips were thin, but sensually shaped, yet Sarah could more easily imagine them lifted in a mocking smile or a predatory grin than she could imagine them parted in a passionate kiss. He had a long neck and wide shoulders, and while his body was skinny, he stood with a quiet confidence that radiated strength. She would bet her entire Christmas bonus that underneath his clothes, Jareth was sinewy, lean muscle.

_Not that I'd imagine him without clothes, _she thought desperately. _I'm just making an observation. Yeah, that's it._

Wow, she sounded so convincing. Sarah bit back the sigh of annoyance at her thoughts, and her gaze focused on his blonde hair. Despite the lack of lighting, it still seemed an impossibly rich color of golden hues. She liked his new hairstyle better than the old one.

Jareth was looking at her with one eyebrow quirked. She'd probably been staring for way too long. She turned away and quickly said, "You've changed your look."

Jareth shrugged. "Quite a bit of time has passed. We stand on the cusp of a new decade. Ten years, Sarah, ten years ago you wished away your brother and found him again." He paused. "You've changed. And, yes, I've probably changed, as well. Although it happens much slower for me."

"Oh, why?"

"A side effect, you might say, of immortality."

"Oh." Yes, he would be immortal; Sarah chided herself for feeling even the least bit surprised by the news. Jareth was a fairytale being—_of course _he would be immortal. In fact, she'd be a little disappointed if he _wasn't_.

"Does that bother you, Sarah? I thought you would have guessed I was not human."

"I guess I'm still getting used to the idea of you even _being _here. To be honest, Jareth, I thought that chapter of my life was behind me," Sarah answered. "I still don't understand why you answered my wish, which I'm also not sure I actually did." Had she specifically wished for _Jareth? _Why hadn't her friends appeared, instead?

Jareth shrugged. "A by-product of your winning the game, I assume. To be honest, I'm not too clear on the details, it isn't every day that someone manages to finish the game."

Sarah glanced at Jareth, unsure if he was trying to compliment her, but his face was expressionless. He was a foot away, mirroring her stance, leaning against the railing and looking out over the water.

"How have you been, Sarah?" he suddenly asked, and so quietly Sarah almost missed it.

"Oh, well, you know…" Sarah floundered, wondering what she should tell the Goblin King. Suddenly, her life seemed quite dull. "I—I went to college, then got a job as a grant writer at a non-profit—"

"Your acting days are behind you, then?" Jareth propped his chin on his elbow and looked at her with those enigmatic, mismatched eyes. "I remember you used to practice plays in that park with that shaggy dog, a wrinkly dress, and a crown of pressed flowers."

Sarah looked away, blushing with embarrassment. The fact that Jareth had watched her didn't surprise her, but any annoyance she should have felt from the fact was washed away with the embarrassment of him watching her teenaged self trying to act out plays and her own make-believe worlds.

"Well," she said, focusing on his question, "it's hard to make money at acting. The non-profit I work with coordinates programs to bring the Arts to underprivileged kids, so in a way, I _am _working in the theater." She lifted her chin, meeting Jareth's eyes. She was proud of her work, even if she had to deal with Boss Prune Lady. Jareth's mouth quirked and he nodded, as if acknowledging her unspoken thoughts.

"What have you been doing?" Sarah said, quickly, trying to take the focus off of her.

"Oh, the usual really," Jareth said, waving his hand dismissively. "Bogging goblins, kicking chickens, taking children wished away—"

"The usual villainous things, then."

"Yes." Jareth grinned.

"So, same old Goblin King."

Jareth didn't say anything, but for one moment, his expression changed. He looked amused, but there was a bleakness that made Sarah's eyes widen with surprise. She shuddered, wondering why the expression made her heart pound, but before she could ask what was wrong a hush fell over the crowd. Sarah looked towards the lake just in time to see a colored spark shoot up and explode into a brightly colored plume, like a glittery flower.

Sarah gasped, her lips widening into a smile, and she said, "Finally!"

Jareth jumped as another spark shot through the sky and blossomed into colors of blue and white. "By all the fairies of the Underground—what _is _that?"

"Fireworks!" Sarah said, gripping the railing as she watched another firework explode with a loud _pop-crackle _noise, displaying colors of red and green. "Don't tell me you've never seen fireworks?"

They were coming faster now; sometimes a few would burst at the same time, peppering the sky in glittery colors.

"Never," Jareth said, and his voice was hushed with awe. Sarah glanced over at him, amused.

His eyes were trained on the fireworks and his face would be bathed in the different colors. Sarah felt her heartbeat quicken as she watched him watch the fireworks. Finally, she forced her gaze away. They stayed silent through the whole display. Sarah couldn't believe she was watching fireworks with the Goblin King—and on Christmas day no less. And he wasn't trying to be devious or manipulative or evil; in fact they seemed to be rather companionable as they shared this moment. Although, Sarah's mind was a little distracted as she watched the Goblin King's handsome face illuminated in the different colored lights from the fireworks, his eyes wide with wonder. And she tried to ignore the heat she could feel radiating off his body.

_I bet snuggling up to him would keep you warm, even in this chill, _a traitorous little voice said in her mind.

_Maybe, but I am _not _going to snuggle up with the Goblin King, _Sarah thought.

_Why not? He's a big boy, I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture, _that devious part of her argued. Sarah firmly tried to ignore it, especially since it kept bringing up images of her nestled against the Goblin King's side.

_I don't even know him! I was in the Labyrinth for less than 13 hours, and spent maybe a quarter of them talking to him—_maybe _a quarter, if I'm being generous, _Sarah thought.

_Being generous would be admitting that he's handsome—_

_Oh, he is handsome, _Sarah readily admitted. She couldn't lie; she wasn't fifteen anymore, she fully appreciated Jareth's looks in a way she hadn't noticed before. Now, the memory of those tight pants caused shivers to run down her spine and a heat to settle in her abdomen.

—_And scooting next to him—_

_No!_

_How about just a few inches? Until your elbow touches his? _The devious part of her whined.

_No! I have no intention of touching the Goblin King, and if he tries to touch me, there'll be hell to pay, _Sarah thought, firmly. She jumped as a firework exploded in the sky, then gasped appreciatively as a cluster of purple fireworks exploded in the shape of stars. _Now, shut up, I'm trying to enjoy the fireworks!_

Her mind did quiet down—albeit grudgingly—but the images of Jareth with his arm around her had left her feeling distracted and antsy. It was silly since, as she'd pointed out, she didn't know him in the least, besides the fact that he was a baby-snatcher and villainous. It had just been too long since her last boyfriend and she was feeling particularly lonely because she wasn't spending Christmas with her family, that was all.

The fireworks continued for a little longer. The finale was particularly dazzling, when a dozen or so fireworks were released at once, dotting the sky in a brilliant display that caused quite a few people—Sarah included—to gasp with delight. The colors twinkled there like stars, reflected in the lake water and doubling the beauty of the moment. Sarah quickly glanced at Jareth in time to see his eyes widen and his lips part. She looked back to the sky and for that one moment, she was glad with whatever wish had brought the Goblin King back into her life. This really was fantastical, magical. How many people could claim they watched the fireworks next to an immortal being? How many people could say they watched an immortal being awestruck?

When the fireworks had finally faded away, leaving behind only smoke and the smell of burnt ozone, the crowd clapped and then began to disperse. Sarah stayed by the railing, suddenly remembering Jennifer, and she felt both guilty and worried. She'd been so distracted by Jareth's appearance, she'd forgotten all about her friend! Where was she?

She turned to Jareth to tell him she had to go, but he was looking out over the lake with an amused smile. "Humans truly are ingenious," he said. He turned to Sarah. "Do these things normally happen Aboveground?"

"No, it's a special day," Sarah said. "It's Christmas, a holiday, so there's fireworks."

"Are there always fireworks for Christmas? Does Christmas happen often?"

"Christmas happens just once a year on December 25th and, as far as I know, there are always fireworks here to celebrate it."

"Do you always celebrate Christmas and watch the fireworks?"

Before Sarah could say anything, she heard her name and glanced over her shoulder. Jennifer was moving through the crowd, waving her hand.

"Sarah!" She stopped in front of her. "I'm sorry, were you worried? I needed to go to the bathroom and after that, I went to find the guy selling the hot drinks, but instead the fireworks started and I decided to just watch them where I was."

"Oh, that's fine," Sarah said, shifting from foot to foot.

"Weren't they awesome?" Jennifer nodded towards the sky, indicating the fireworks.

"Yeah, they were great." Sarah turned towards Jareth, worried about what he would make of her friend—or what Jennifer would make of him—and how she would introduce Jareth. "My friend from long ago" seemed too weird to say. But to her surprise, no one was there.

She stared at the spot Jareth had been standing, alarm uncurling in her stomach. She hadn't imagined him, had she? To her surprise, she desperately wanted to believe that the Goblin King had appeared before her and that they had watched the fireworks together.

Jennifer touched her arm, bringing Sarah back to reality. "Are you okay?" Jennifer asked, frowning.

"Yeah." Sarah turned away, pushing back a sigh. "It's just cold. Let's get back to the car."

Jennifer's apartment was always so meticulously neat. Sarah wondered when her friend had the time to clean and tidy so thoroughly; her own apartment was clean enough, but she tended to have little piles of clutter sitting around collecting dust, until she was finally so fed up she went through the piles of junk.

Sarah's duffle bag was next to the sofa and already there were a few dirty clothes stacked haphazardly on the bag. She slept on the pull-out bed and shared the bathroom with her friend.

When they arrived back home, they were both shivering from the cold. Jennifer announced that she was taking a hot shower, to which Sarah replied, "Just don't use up all the hot water." After Jennifer had grabbed a fresh towel from the linen closet and locked the bathroom door behind her, Sarah opened the fridge looking for a snack, but when she found nothing that interested her, she closed the door and wandered around the apartment.

She felt antsy again. She wanted…something, but she wasn't sure what.

Suddenly, she heard her ringtone, a muffled rendition of _Rebel Yell_ by Billy Idol as the cell phone was jammed deep in her purse. She had to dig around to find it.

"Hello?"

"Hi Sarah honey," her father's voice said above a background of static noise.

Sarah smiled. "Hi Dad! How's Hawaii this time of year?"

"Beautiful. _Warm_. Blue water for as far as the eye can see, palm trees, white beaches, great tropical drinks with those little umbrellas in them," her father answered.

"You're making me jealous, I'm freezing my butt off here," Sarah said, teasingly. "Send some of that Hawaiian sunshine this way."

"Well, I _told _you that we could have delayed the trip until you saved enough to join us."

"Oh, it would have been a hassle for everyone involved, and you already bought your tickets."

"I feel guilty about you spending Christmas alone, though," her father said.

"Don't, I ended up spending Christmas with Jennifer," Sarah answered. "She broke up with her boyfriend and asked if I wanted to stay until the 26th."

"Jennifer…Jennifer…is she the one with the pink hair?"

"No, that's Katie. She moved to Wisconsin and we lost touch. Jennifer's the one who's in law school and is allergic to seafood."

"Oh right! She nearly fainted when I offered her some of my gumbo." Her father chuckled at the memory. "Well good. Did you have a nice Christmas?"

"Yeah, it was fun." Sarah fiddled with her purse strap, thinking about a certain Goblin King.

"Karen's at the spa right now, but you can say hello to Toby if you want."

"Sure. And tell Karen I say merry Christmas." Sarah wasn't disappointed at the missed opportunity to talk with her step-mother. Although they got along well, Sarah had never been able to foster a close relationship with Karen, and perhaps her father sensed this, because he was the one who always called Sarah and invited her over to family functions.

"Hey Toby! Sarah's on the line!" her father yelled and a moment later, she heard her younger brother take the phone and say, "Hello?"

"Hi Tobes. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." Sarah smiled to hear her younger brother's voice. Ever since she had won Toby back from the Goblin King, she'd felt a kinship to her brother, and they'd grown up very close. She could hardly believe that Toby was ten now, and she felt some sadness when she thought about him growing up. She wondered if they'd stay close once Toby entered middle school, and then high school. Even now, he didn't ask her to tell him bedtime stories anymore and he'd given Lancelot back to her, proclaiming he was too old for stuffed animals.

Sarah wondered across the living room to stand in front of the Christmas tree. Jennifer had put up a fake one that had the lights woven into the needles. She'd also color coordinated all of the decorations, choosing only round ornaments in hues of blue, red, and silver.

"How's Hawaii?" Sarah asked, her gaze traveling along the tree as she spoke.

"It's pretty, the beach is fun," Toby said.

He sounded distracted, so Sarah decided to end the conversation quickly. She jokingly told him not to get swept out into the ocean or chased by sharks, then bid him goodnight and hung up.

The sound of the shower in the background was soothing and Sarah wished Jennifer would hurry up and finish so she could warm up, too. She sighed and stretched, her gaze resting on the tree again, and then she spotted a present underneath the tree.

She frowned. She and Jennifer had already exchanged gifts in the morning, after breakfast, why was there a new one? Not only that, but it was covered with wrapping paper that had a candy cane pattern. Sarah had used blue wrapping paper with white snowflakes embossed on it, and Jennifer had used elegant gold wrapping paper with the words "Merry Christmas" repeated across it.

Sarah crouched in front of the tree, pulling out the gift. It was the size and shape of a shoebox. There was a small white card attached to the top and she flipped it open, reading the message inside:

_To: Sarah_

_From: Jareth, the Goblin King_

_Merry Christmas._

Sarah stared at the card, her mouth opening in shock. She re-read it three times before she finally believed that the Goblin King had indeed given her a Christmas gift. She hesitated, the card clenched in one hand and the gift balanced in the other. There was no question about whether she wanted to open it or not, but could she handle what she might find inside?

* * *

**Author's Notes:** MUHAHA! Cliffie! So, what do you think is inside the box? Cookies (and a shout-out) for anyone who guesses right. ;) And if someone suggests something more awesome than what I have outlined right now (I'm sure that won't be too difficult), I just may toss my outline out the window and use the suggestion with copious amounts of thanks and shout-outs. XD

I'm home from the relatives' so updates will now be more dependable. Expect the next one tomorrow! Like I said in the previous chapter, my goal is to try and finish this story by the New Year. We'll see how I do. **Encouragement (in the form of reviews) is always appreciated.** :D Comments/suggestions/questions are always welcome. What do you think so far? Will Sarah finally succumb to the devious voice inside her head? Will the Goblin King gain a newfound obsession with fireworks and demand his subjects set off piles of the stuff every night for his amusement? Should goblins even be allowed near fire and gunpowder?! Next chapter will have quite a bit of Jareth bogging goblins, the wisdom (or lack thereof) of Charles Dickens, and maybe even a few chickens tossed in for good measure. :D

I realized after I uploaded Chapter 1 that I didn't officially wish everyone a merry Christmas -- which should show you how late I uploaded the first chapter if I let that little detail slip my mind. Oh dear, I apologize profusely for my mistake and hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas (or whatever holiday you may celebrate -- or just a wonderful weekend!) involving loved ones, good food, and minimal food comas and hang overs. XD

And **ChilaliSnowbird**, happy belated birthday!

**Tidbit #1:** The Town Lake Bridge is based upon a bridge in the area I grew up. On 4th of July (not Christmas, unfortunately) they close it down so people can watch fireworks from it. I think that's the closest I've ever been to fireworks. :D

**Tidbit #2:** Jennifer's wrapping paper is the wrapping paper I used this year to wrap all my presents. It was really pretty and elegant, even if I'm not that great at wrapping. XD

**The Fine Print:** As always, I claim no ownership for the characters from The Labyrinth. But I still wish I could own Jareth...(*CQ holds out a crystal to the Goblin King* "Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave" -- Think he'd go for it? ;) )


	3. Getting into the Spirit of Things

**Chapter Three: Getting into the Spirit of Things**

"I wish the Goblin King would come and take you away _right now!_" the young child said to the puppy, angrily.

There was a crash, a giant plume of purple-grey smoke, and lots of glitter and then to the child's amazement, a beautiful creature stood in front of him: a man with blonde hair, tilted eyes, and a neat costume that seemed to be made out of black armor. The child looked up at the man in disbelief and said, "You're the Goblin King!"

Jareth looked at the boy, who couldn't have been more than seven, and the shaggy-haired puppy in the child's arms and sighed. "I would hope I'm the Goblin King, since you wished someone away." He looked around, expectantly. Usually, people wished away other people when they were with said person, but the room was empty. In fact, it was an odd room for a young child—this room seemed like it should be for a teenager. There were video game and Transformers posters on the wall, a small bed, a desk with a computer, and a book shelf with a few books and action figures.

"I didn't think you'd show up!" the child said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Do something…_goblin_-_y_."

Jareth scowled. "I most certainly will not! Who did you wish away, child? I'm busy." In fact, he had been enjoying his little visit with Sarah, but since he was already conflicted by the emotions he felt at seeing Sarah again after so long, he decided to leave immediately when the summons came.

The child clutched the puppy closer, his eyes going wide with shock as he realized just what he'd done. His lower lip curved out into a pout. "You wouldn't take Chester, would you? I didn't mean to wish him away, but he peed in Ted's room and Ted'll _kill _me. I'm supposed to be looking after him!"

"Ted?"

"My older brother."

Jareth sighed again, dreading the answer to his next question. "And Chester would be…the puppy?"

"Yes, I got him for Christmas."

"That was this morning, child. You're already wishing the dog away?"

"_Please_ don't take Chester away!"

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. Lately, it seemed the quality of those who were wished away was reducing, and now he had to debate on whether he wanted to take away a _dog_? What were the rules for a dog, anyway? Jareth had to take a human who was wished away, then offer the game to the wisher as a way to win the human back, but did that extend to dogs?

_I don't care, I definitely don't want the goblins to have a dog, especially one that isn't potty trained, _Jareth thought, shuddering. _They already have all those chickens!_

He looked around, wondering what he could have the child do instead, and his eyes fell on a book that sat atop the desk. The title caught his eye: _A Christmas Carol_. He pointed to the book and said, "Give me that book and I'll let you keep your dog."

The child grinned. "Sure! It's my brother's, anyway."

Jareth took the book and left. He appeared in his throne room, once more lamenting his life. When had it become boring? There was a time when he looked forward to the next person wished away, or bogging a few goblins, but now it was just becoming so _mundane_. When was the last time somebody had wished away someone interesting? When was the last time he'd felt his blood pound with excitement at the prospect of playing the game?

Unbidden, an image of a certain girl with dark hair and flashing green eyes came to mind—except now, she was older. Her face had become leaner, losing its baby fat, and she'd grown, no longer so innocent, but more _alluring_. And she still had kind but stubborn green eyes—the eyes hadn't changed at all, in fact.

Jareth wrenched his thoughts away from _her _and decided to read the book instead. He fell onto the throne, flipping through it idly. It didn't take long to read the whole thing and when he was done, he found he was still curious so he went to the Aboveground and pilfered some more books—purely in the name of research.

Now he was lounging on his large throne with his booted feet hanging off the arm rest. A stack of books were precariously balanced in front of the chair: _'Twas the Night before Christmas_, _The Grinch that Stole Christmas!_, _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_, _Frosty the Snowman_, and _The Polar Express_ where just a few of the books within the stack.

Jareth closed the last book with a frown. He stood up and said, "From what I understand of this Christmas thing, it involves 'goodwill towards your fellow man,' food, and decorating a tree. Except when it includes a fat man dressed in a red suit, reindeer, or snow, then it involves presents. Worst of all, there's no villainous deeds to be seen! In fact, all the villains are cruelly reformed."

Sitting on the top of his throne was a goblin with a bulbous nose, large eyes, and a mouthful of sharp teeth; his skin was green and knobby like a cucumber's and he wore pants made out of an old rice sack tied around his waist with a shoelace. He was picking at his teeth delicately with his pinky finger. The little fellow said, "What about boggings?"

"No, bogging anybody would be strictly against the 'Christmas spirit,'" Jareth said, with disgust.

The goblin _humph_-ed. Jareth looked up and realized where the goblin was sitting. With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose and said, slowly, "Gus, what did I say about sitting on the throne?"

Gus tapped his chin, thoughtfully. "Not to do it?"

"And why did I say that?"

Gus frowned. He had no eyebrows—or eyelashes, for that matter—but his eyebrow ridges were well-defined. He screwed his eyes shut as he tried to think and Jareth could almost see the pea-sized gears moving in his head as he tried to remember. Finally, Gus opened his eyes and grinned with triumph.

"Because only Kingy gets to sit on throne!"

Jareth's fingers twitched, but he ignored the urge to pinch his nose again. He hated how the goblins called him "Kingy" and after so many years—centuries, really, if he wanted to try counting, and he didn't—they _still _insisted on the moniker. _One thing at a time, _he thought.

"And _what else_?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Um…" Gus looked around the throne room at the other goblins there. They liked to cluster around their king—goblins weren't creatures who did well alone or in silence—but no one had an answer until a small goblin with large puppy dog eyes named Mort said, "No one sits higher than the king?"

"Exactly," Jareth said, grabbing Gus and dropping him onto the floor. He sat back on the throne and Gus settled at its foot, glancing at the books with curiosity. Nearby, a skinny and tall goblin with a pointy nose was dealing cards to three other goblins. The cards were grimy, wrinkled, and well-used.

Jareth watched the card game for a moment, then grabbed the book at the top of his stack. _A Christmas Carol_ had been an interesting read, but it still didn't explain much about the holiday. Jareth didn't really feel like being visited by three spirits—he liked his sleep. However, some of the other things he'd read sounded interesting, like a roast beast and gifts and snow. Jareth tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully, looking out at his band of goblins. There were even a few chickens clucking around the area, but Jareth had long learned it was wiser to ignore them. The closest the Underground had ever come to full mutiny had been when Jareth had banned chickens in his castle.

"We are going to celebrate," Jareth decided. Dozens of pairs of eyes looked up, the throne room falling into a hush as they listened to him. Jareth had never said anything like that before; he didn't even like celebrating his birthday, and when the goblins would shyly give him presents, he would bog them (although some of the goblins appreciated the sentiment). "Yes, this Christmas thing doesn't look too hard. It'll be late this year, but we are going to do the whole thing! A feast and one of those green pine trees and everything!"

He pointed to the stack of books and said, "I want you all to read these, you should know what to do."

The goblins obligingly came closer and then stared at the books with confusion, which was when Jareth remembered that none of them knew how to read, except maybe Jeebo, but like most things, Jeebo tended to make up words as he went along. So, finally, Jareth opened up the first book and began reading _A Christmas Carol _out loud while the goblins clustered around the throne room and listened with rapt fascination and the occasional question. When he was done with that one, he went onto the next, and then the next, until the pile of books had been rearranged, now with _A Christmas Carol _on the bottom. The last one was about the Grinch, and when he closed this book, the goblin's looked at each other with confusion.

"So…Grinch gave back all the stuff?"

"Grinch wouldn't make a good Kingy, would always give back the wishers," one goblin said, thoughtfully.

Jareth decided not to say anything, since he hadn't taken the child's dog only a few hours earlier. He wasn't getting soft, was he? Jareth made a mental note to bog a few more goblins before he went to sleep that night.

"Well, Kingy _did _give back Tob—" a goblin named Wort began, but he was elbowed into silence by Jeebo.

Jareth scowled.

"Well, Grinch got to carve roast beast in the end," one of the goblins said quickly.

"We should have roast beast!" Gus said.

"Yeah! Roast beast! Roast beast!"

One of the chickens clucked, flapped its wings, and flew across the room to land on a goblin's head.

"Or chicken," Jareth said, looking at the chicken with a grin.

"No! Never chicken!" the goblins cried. The one with the chicken on its head shuddered, grabbing at the would-be poultry and hugging it protectively. "_Never chicken!_"

"Fine, no chicken." Jareth scowled again, wondering what kind of king would allow chickens in the throne room, anyway. He really was too generous.

Just like he had been with a certain young girl…

Damn, now he was thinking about Sarah _again_. He really must stop doing that. When she'd left ten years ago, he'd thought of her much too often and the goblins, charmed by the strange and whimsical girl who had managed to be the first to beat their monarch, had mentioned her almost every day. Finally, Jareth had proclaimed that any mention of Sarah would result in an automatic bogging. The goblins were quiet for a few moments before one had said, tentatively, "Baby would have made a good goblin. Would have been fun."

"Yeah! Kingy even did Magic Dance! We should do Magic Dance every day!"

"Magic Dance! Magic Dance!"

"And ask Sarah to join in!"

Jareth had bogged all of them. They learned quickly that they should be careful not to mention Sarah, but Jareth would sometimes sit on his throne being extremely bored (being Goblin King meant being bored half of the time, especially when there was no one wished away) and think about a certain girl who had challenged him, intrigued him, and managed to best him.

But, ten years had passed…and Sarah was older now…

And _she _had called _him_…that fact alone confused him.

He felt a fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach and frowned. Maybe he was coming down with something—Wait, no, he didn't get sick. But he'd definitely felt odd watching the fireworks with Sarah.

The goblins were dancing around the throne room chanting "_Magic Dance! Magic Dance!_" and Jareth finally said, "I'll bog the lot of you if you don't stop!"

The goblins quieted down, many pouting, but soon they went back to what they had been doing. Jareth tapped his fingers against the throne's arm rest, his mind flittering back to the fireworks. They had been beautiful—all those colors. Humans often impressed him with their ingenuity. He wondered if it was possible to get fireworks in the Underground.

_Christmas in the Underground, _Jareth thought, grinning. His heart began to pound with excitement and he relished the feeling. He hadn't felt excited about anything in a long time, and he was looking forward to trying this whole Christmas thing out. He really should thank Sarah for bringing the holiday to his attention, and the fireworks; he'd never have seen them if she hadn't wished him to appear.

With a thoughtful "hmm," Jareth made a motion with his hand and a crystal appeared. He let it glide along his arm then back to his palm where he threw it up in the air. With a puff of glittery smoke, it turned into a shoebox-sized present with candy cane wrapping. There was even a tag and a cheery, red bow on top. He smiled and said, "My first Christmas present. Enjoy, Sarah."

It disappeared from his hand and he leaned back. "Jeebo!" he yelled.

Jeebo looked up, torn between his poker game—he was winning—and his king's command, but after a moment's hesitation, he put down the cards and scampered to the throne.

"Yeah, Kingy?"

A piece of paper and a pencil appeared in the King's hand. He held them out to Jeebo. "I want you to write down everything I say, Jeebo. I have a list of things the Underground is going to need if we're going to try this Christmas thing." He tapped a finger to his chin again and added, thoughtfully, "Maybe I'll have to reorder time a little bit…"

Jeebo dutifully took the piece of paper and the pencil, and waited, ready to take down whatever the Goblin King said.

# # # #

Somewhere in New Jersey, a teenage boy by the name of Ted entered his room and smelled the pungent odor of chemical cleaner. "_Jeff! _Did that stupid dog pee in my room _again?_" He yelled. His kid brother didn't answer and Ted fumed, looking at the wet spot on his carpet. At least someone—probably his Mom—had cleaned up the urine. Ted hated that puppy.

He sighed, then went to his desk. Besides the usual junk and his computer, the desk was empty. He frowned. "Hey, where's my book?"

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, but if I keep messing with it, I think I'll make it worse instead of better. Depending on my time, the next chapter will be up by tomorrow. I hope this wasn't too confusing timeline-wise, since this chapter happened before Sarah saw the present under the tree. Also, goblins from my other stories (specifically Mort, Jeebo, and Wort) appear. I particularly have a soft spot for Jeebo, his tendency to cheat at cards cracks me up. :D

**Please review!** Tell me what you think. All suggestions/comments/questions are welcome.

Next chapter, Jareth's present is finally opened (so, you can still guess if you want! And, as I said before, anyone who guesses right gets a cookie -- or any suggestion I particularly like may mean I throw away what I've outlined and use the suggestion with copious amounts of thank yous and shout outs XD), plus more from the mischievous goblins (who should never get their hands on highlighters), and the wonderful "healing" properties of Egg Nog.

I'm still trying to get this story done by New Year's. We'll see if I'm successful. XD

**Tidbit:** I have, at one point, owned all the books that Jareth pilfered, and I still own a copy of _A Christmas Carol_.

And now, a few shout-outs...

**ChilaliSnowbird:** I bet Jareth would still manage to be dastardly and handsome without eyebrows. ;)

**FaeriesMidwife:** Its always a compliment to know my story caused sleep deprivation. ;) But, I hope you did manage to get some sleep in the end.

**TheElfQueen:** I imagine Jareth has heard of Christmas but doesn't know what it entails, so no, he probably wouldn't know about mistletoe, however I can see him taking full advantage of it once he finds out...oops...am I giving away plot details? XD

**StoryLake:** Thanks for the compliments! I admit, this story is a bit different than my usual ones, so it may not be as polished as what I usually write. Plus, I'm trying to get an update a day done, which is killer and doesn't leave room for as much editing. I was wondering, what do you mean by "boyfriend-y"? I will only say this: there will be some fluffy moments in this story, although I'm not sure if this Jareth will be all fluff himself. If you're a bigger fan of dark Jareth, I have a story in progress called "Seeded Dreams" with a darker Jareth.

**Kou Shun'u: **Thank you! I admit, the beginning is moving slower than I wanted, but I hope the pace will pick up in the next few chapters. However, this isn't going to be an action-y fic at all.

**Trixie09, Cybernetic Mango, Myra Valhallah, Notwritten: **Thanks for the compliments! :) They made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside -- and made me want to get writing! XD

_The Fine Print: As usual, I don't own anything in regards to the Labyrinth except my own original characters._


	4. Socks and Christmas Lists

**Chapter Four: Socks and Christmas Lists**

Sarah pulled off the wrapping paper on the present, ignoring how her hands trembled slightly. She wondered if she should put the gift on the ground and get ready to jump back, just in case Jareth had put something nasty inside. She felt a little guilty after that thought—she didn't _like _thinking the worst of people—but then again, this _was _the man who had thrown a snake at her.

Underneath the wrapping paper was a simple, white box and she opened this to peer inside. Nestled amongst a bed of feathers—was that _chicken feathers?_—was a cushion and embedded in it was a familiar ring. Sarah plucked the ring out, looking at the little ruby in the gold band. It was a simple ring, but at one time she had loved it and would never have parted with it, but she had, for a bit of advice, and to save her brother.

She put the box near the trash can and slowly slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit her finger still, too, and she stared at the ring thoughtfully. How was she supposed to feel about this gesture? There was no note besides the Christmas wishes, but she suddenly longed the Goblin King was in front of her so she could ask him why he'd given the ring back to her—and maybe how he'd gotten it from the Wiseman to begin with.

"Well, on the other hand," Sarah murmured to herself, "since I only gave away the ring to get Toby back, who he stole to begin with, maybe this is a fitting present."

_Maybe he's saying "let bygones be bygones"? _Sarah suddenly thought. She hoped that was it, but she wasn't going to hold her breath.

The shower shut off and Sarah stretched. Well, no use thinking about it now, when she wouldn't get any answers. If she saw the Goblin King again, she'd ask him.

# # # #

There was a weight on her chest and it was waking her up. Sarah wondered, half-asleep, if she'd somehow managed to bunch the blankets on herself again. She rolled over with a sigh, and then stiffened when she heard a yelp of indignity. Her eyes popped open and all she could see was a pointy-nosed goblin leaning towards her, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sarah gasped, the sound squeaky and high-pitched with surprise, and jumped back away from the goblin—only to fall off the narrow sofa bed.

She fell hard on her butt, wincing from the pain, and looked up to see the goblin had scooted forward to peer over the edge of the bed at her. Anger licked the inside of her stomach and she had to clamp her mouth tight to keep from yelling at the goblin. Instead, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking away.

There were goblins all over the apartment. She spotted a cluster of them around the Christmas tree, looking at the lights with wide, shiny eyes and tapping the ornaments, watching the globes swing on the branches. One of the goblins broke off some pine needles and ate it.

"Hey! Don't do that!" Sarah said. The cluster of goblins looked at her, surprised and guilty expressions on their face. "What is going on here?"

"We here on errand," the goblin that was looking at her from over the edge of the bed replied. He had a sock on his head, which he wore like a hat. It was hot pink with a black skull pattern sprinkled along it.

Sarah frowned, squinting at the sock. "Hey! That's my sock!" She pointed, but since the goblin looked like he had no intention of giving the sock back, she leaped up trying to grab the item off his head. He merely skipped back, giggling. Sarah climbed back onto the bed and jumped for the goblin, but he ran away and she ran after him, chasing him around the kitchen.

She saw a few goblins on the kitchen counter, having sword fights with the butter knives from the cutlery cabinet. Another goblin with large, puppy dog eyes was going through the fridge. Sarah paused in her chase long enough to pull the goblin back and close the fridge, then she took off again. The goblin led her to Jennifer's bedroom door, which was open, and then ran past it towards the bathroom. As Sarah passed the door, she glanced inside—and stopped with her mouth agape with horror.

The goblins had gone through Jennifer's dresser and were pulling on various articles of clothing. One goblin was wearing a pair of black lace panties as a hat. Another was quickly grabbing all the socks and stuffing them into a burlap sack. One goblin was trying to eat Jennifer's panty-hose and, if the expression on his face was any indication, wasn't finding them very tasty.

But that wasn't the worst thing. The worst thing was that the goblins had found the highlighters Jennifer kept on her desk and were using them to _draw on her face_. Jennifer, who could probably sleep through an earthquake, was still fast asleep with her mouth slightly open as the goblins gleefully drew fluorescent yellow suns, hot pink flowers, and lime green smiley faces on her cheeks, forehead, chin, and neck. Sarah leaned against the doorway, about to yell at them when she realized she didn't want to wake her friend. How would she explain the goblins? And, worse, the drawings on her _face_?

Sarah groaned, putting a hand to her forehead in horror. She felt a hand on her shin. Looking down, she saw that the goblin with the pointy-nose was there, looking into the room with curiosity. She grabbed him and yanked the sock off his head before he could get away, and he yelped with indignity.

Sarah clamped a hand on his mouth and whispered, "_Sssh_! Now, you're going to talk and you're going to talk _fast_ and tell me why all the goblins are here. Is this Jareth's doing? Did he send you?"

Sarah couldn't believe that just earlier she had been wishing her life wasn't so mundane, that something magical had happened. Well, she had learned her lesson. Having a bunch of rowdy goblins causing chaos in her _friend's _apartment was not something she needed.

The goblin squirmed in her grasp and said, "Gotta get stuff for Kingy, and we thought 'Lady nice, she help!' but when we come, Lady _asleep_. She just sleep and sleep and _sleep_—we got bored." He said it like it was a personal affront and Sarah found herself wondering if the goblins needed to sleep.

_It would be horrible if they didn't. Goblins, with the attention spans and mischievous natures of little kids, awake 24-7, _Sarah thought, shuddering.

Sarah glanced at the alarm clock in Jennifer's room, which had bright red numbers that were easy to read in the dark. She raised her eyebrows and said, "I've only been asleep for three hours."

"We got bored," the goblin said, again.

Sarah sighed. "Well, first things first: I won't help you until you tell your friends to stop drawing on _my _friend and wipe away all the highlighter marks—gently! So as not to wake her!"

The goblin looked disappointed, but he nodded. He trotted into the room, his large nose wobbled slightly with each step he took, and talked briefly with the goblins in a hushed whisper. They looked extremely disappointed, but eventually they capped the highlighters and dropped them onto the floor. Then, they licked the palms of their hands and wiped away the marks. Jennifer made a few wheezing, snorting noises, moved slightly, but settled back to sleep.

Sarah winced, watching the goblins lick their hands to clean off Jennifer's face. Deep down inside, she was glad the goblins hadn't written anything on her face.

_Or had they? _Suddenly worried, Sarah nearly ran to the bathroom to check her reflection. There was a goblin in the tub, even though it wasn't filled with water. He was meticulously unscrewing the shampoo lids and sniffing the contents before sipping it. Sarah took back the _Head & Shoulders_ he was currently sampling and said, "That's not for eating, unless you want your tongue to be dandruff free."

"Tastes good, though."

Sarah shook her head and glanced at the mirror. She looked tired, but her face was free of any highlighter or pen or anything. She sighed with relief. She made the little goblin leave the bathroom and when she passed Jennifer's room, she found it empty. With a sigh of relief, she closed the door and hoped Jennifer wouldn't have anymore nighttime visitors. In the kitchen, the long-nosed goblin waited impatiently, sitting on Sarah's sofa bed and idly scratching his forehead. He was staring at a piece of paper, squinting his eyes with concentration. Behind him, the goblins were rifling through the cabinets. One took out a small skillet and wore it as a hat. Sarah groaned and sat at the dining table, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to keep calm.

"Explain again—_why _are you all here?"

"Need help from Lady to find things for Christmas feast."

"Roast beast! Roast beast!" some of the goblins cried out from the kitchen, as if some trigger had been flipped.

"_Ssssh!_" Sarah hissed. She sighed, looking longingly at her bed for a moment, but the idea of leaving the goblins alone scared her. It was probably a better idea to quickly see what they needed and send them back to the Underground. "What's your name, then? I can't keep calling you 'goblin,' especially when there's a bunch of you here—don't do that!" The last comment was directed at a goblin that was about to hit another with a frying pan.

"Jeebo," the goblin said, puffing his chest up with pride. "You met Jeebo once."

"Did I?" Sarah tried to remember, but there were a lot of goblins when she'd first visited the Underground and she finally shook her head apologetically.

Jeebo shrugged. "I was chased by rocks and pecked by a chicken."

"Oh…sorry about that."

"It was fun!" Jeebo grinned, showing off crooked teeth.

"So, what does your list say?" Sarah asked, curious despite herself. What would the Goblin King think was worth buying for a Christmas feast?

Jeebo carefully smoothed the much wrinkled piece of paper in his hand. Sarah noticed there were a few grease stains, too, but when Jeebo passed the paper to her, she obligingly took it and read the list:

_Gsekja_

_Eladn_

_etkaLcen_

_swaldfik_

_openarale_

Sarah frowned. The list went on like that for another few items. She put it down and said, "Jeebo, this doesn't make sense." When Jeebo gave her a confused look, she added, "It's just gobbily-gook, it's not words."

"It _is _words."

"Okay, then read it to me."

"I don't remember what Kingy said! That why I have list!"

"But if you have the list, you don't have to remember because you can just read…you know what? Never mind." Sarah passed the list back to Jeebo, who grudgingly took it. "It's nearly four o'clock in the morning, I'm tired, so I'm afraid I can't help you right now Jeebo, I'm sorry. If you could just tell all your friends to leave, that would be great."

"But, the party!" Jeebo said. "Kingy never throws parties!"

"But I can't read this, Jeebo," Sarah said, gently, "and it's not even four o'clock, nothing's open right now."

Jeebo sighed dramatically and said, "Fine." He turned to look over his shoulder. "We going back to castle, everyone!"

The goblins stopped what they were doing, looking up in surprise. Sarah's gaze skipped from one set of wide eyes to another and she couldn't help but think that goblins looked a lot like children sometimes. Her gaze stopped on a tiny goblin with large, puppy dog eyes and she sighed, defeated. How was anyone supposed to stay firm? She'd never been able to say "no" to Toby when he was young, as well.

"Alright," Sarah said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "If I can't read it and you can't read it, then we'll just ask the Goblin King, he gave you the list to begin with, right?"

After watching the fireworks with Jareth, Sarah was nervous seeing him again. It could get awkward fast, however she also couldn't resist the way the goblins looked at her. They really wanted a party, and a "roast beast."

"You wanna talk to Kingy?" one of the goblins said with a hushed whisper.

"Um, I guess," Sarah said.

"You _wanna _talk to Kingy?" another goblin said.

Sarah didn't like how this conversation was going. The more she thought about this the more hesitant she felt. She was probably getting cold feet. Why _would _she want to talk to the Goblin King anyway? Hadn't he taken her baby brother, sent her on a journey with dangers untold and hardships unnumbered? Wait, or had it been dangers unnumbered and hardships untold?

_What am I doing? I'm not even fifteen anymore, _Sarah thought.

_Yeah, you're _not _fifteen anymore, _the devious part of her pointed out, and she was reminded of how good Jareth had looked as he watched the fireworks. She blushed at the memory.

"I'm…I'm not wishing myself away or anything," she said.

Jeebo snorted and took Sarah's hand. "No need, Lady. We'll take ya to Kingy."

Sarah took a few steps towards the pantry door in the kitchen, letting Jeebo tug at her hand, then stopped and said, "Wait! I just realized—what if he's asleep? I don't want to wake him." She took a step back, half-dragging Jeebo with her.

Yeah, she definitely was getting cold feet.

Jeebo tugged at her arm. "Hurry," was all Jeebo said and after a moment, other goblins began tugging at Sarah's clothes until she finally walked forward, heading towards the pantry.

Sarah had enough presence of mind not to be surprised when she opened the pantry and saw only a dark cavernous space. She couldn't see the usual cabinets filled with food; she couldn't even see any walls or floor. She looked down into the dark abyss of the pantry and felt her legs go rubbery.

"On second thought…" she began, and then one of the goblins behind her gave a push.

With a yelp, Sarah fell forward, her arms flailing comically. However, there was no ground to meet her and Sarah continued falling, screaming into the dark.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** So...I got a nasty head cold and fell behind on all my plans, including writing the fanfic. *cries* I got better in time for New Year's Eve, though. So it won't be done in time, because there's 2-3 chapters left (oh well, it will be done by the end of the week). In fact, this chapter was going to be double the length, but I wanted to post SOMETHING today, so I posted the half I had finished. Don't worry, folks, Jareth will be back and going strong in the next chapter, with plenty of holiday festivities and some adult-type touching. (OOOOH! XD)

**Trixie09**, you get a cookie for guessing what's inside of the gift! *presents cookie* Thank you everyone for playing along with my silliness, and all the suggestions were wonderful and encouraging and some of them were really tempting. For all those who guessed crystals, don't worry, I'm sure Jareth has a few crystals up his sleeves. :D

OK, I'm off to party. HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! I hope you enjoy it with loved ones and have plenty of fun. :)

**Cybernatic Mango: **OMG, I totally didn't think about that but he IS acting a bit like Jack. (*Imagines Jareth singing "What's This?"* Eh, I prefer Magic Dance :P)

**Aysuh, Janeitesarah, Lumissne, notwritten:** Thanks so much! Your comments make me all fuzzy inside. And I hope you enjoyed the reveal of what's in the gift.

**FaeriesMidwife:** Sorry this chapter doesn't have Jareth/Sarah, it was in my original outline, I swear! But next chapter, I promise! :)


	5. Greetings and Explanations

**Chapter Five: Greetings and Explanations**

Jareth was sitting on his throne, his chin propped in his hand, his elbow resting on the wide armrest. He was dozing. He didn't like to sleep often, the goblins had a tendency to muck things up while he slept, and oftentimes he'd wake to find something on fire or, worse, pecked by chickens. He rarely dreamed, but when he did, he enjoyed them thoroughly. Usually, dreams were for the mortals, the non-magical. But sometimes he was lucky enough to dream. It was a shapeless dream, filled with emotions and colors that jumbled together in his mind, so it was even more disorienting when he was rudely awakened by a screech that seemed to come from the sky.

He opened his eyes, wondering what the goblins had done this time, when someone fell at his feet. He looked down. There, at the foot of his throne, was a pile of goblins and…Sarah. Jareth frowned, confused and surprised to find the girl—no, young woman now—here. He waited, watching with amusement as Sarah pulled Jeebo off her back so she could sit up and relieve the goblins she had landed on top of, all of which looked dazed and squished. She sighed and muttered, "I'm not _that _heavy."

"Ah, but you did fall from a very awfully far height—the Aboveground," Jareth said, leaning back casually.

Sarah gasped, turning towards the voice. Jareth had a moment of extreme satisfaction—and that damn flutter in the pit of his stomach came back, too—when he watched Sarah's gaze fix on his boots. He was suddenly very happy he had decided to wear the black leather ones that ended at his knees; they were one of his favorite. He watched as her eyes slowly traveled up the length of his body and it seemed that by her gaze alone he became acutely aware of his own body, as if her eyes were caressing him. It was distracting. Instead, he focused on her expression, which was befuddled surprise, some dread, and a good amount of embarrassment, if the flush in her cheeks were any indication.

He smirked. Oh, he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't enjoy her reaction.

She paused at the apex of his legs, where his incredibly tight pants stretched across his body. Her blush deepened and Jareth was glad again for his wardrobe choice.

Her eyes traveled up his black, poet's shirt; the one that had a drawstring in the front, which he kept untied. It showed off a tantalizing amount of skin, forming a V that ended just above his stomach. She stared at the amount of flesh visible and a thought popped into his head: _She finds you attractive, old boy. Quite attractive. Wonders never cease._

_Well, she is hardly fifteen anymore, _Jareth thought, amused. _I would think she'd notice some things that had escaped her the last time she was here._

However, it was a little unsettling how happy the thought that Sarah found him attractive made him—and how satisfied. Best to think of other things, like the amusement he felt when she finished her ogling, her gaze resting on his face.

"Jareth," she squeaked, "um, sorry to disturb you."

Sarah, for her part, felt extremely flustered. She hadn't felt this confused and unsure of herself since…well, since she was fifteen and a _certain _haughty Goblin King had said to her, after she had proclaimed the unfairness of it all, _"You say that so often, I wonder what your basis of comparison is." _

And, oh boy, did he look good. It was almost unfair, how good he looked—and how not-so-good she looked, in her pale blue camisole with the light lace edging and her pajama pants that had sheep against a sky blue background.

"Indeed, I wonder what I owe this impromptu visit to," Jareth said, crossing his deliciously booted legs at the ankles. He looked regal and a little threatening on the huge, stone throne. It was large enough that two people could sit side-by-side and the back was tall, showing off intricate carvings of goblins frolicking through the Labyrinth. Jareth looked like the Goblin King sitting on it.

However, Sarah didn't like feeling embarrassed or flustered or unsure of herself, and she reacted the only way she knew how: with anger.

"Actually," she said, slowly getting up and wincing at the pain—the landing hadn't been smooth. "It's _your _fault I'm here."

"_My _fault?"

"Your goblins woke me up in the middle of the night, ransacking my friend's house! They drew on her _face, _Jareth. What if she'd woken up? What was I supposed to tell her?" Sarah felt energized by her anger and much more in control of herself. "Then Jeebo stuck a list in my hands and said he needed help finding stuff for some sort of feast—but the list was in gibberish! And when I said I'd help by talking to _you _about it, because god only knows when they'd leave otherwise—or what _else _they'd do to Jennifer's apartment—they pushed me into the pantry which suddenly had no floors or walls. Do you _know _how scary it is to fall in the dark?"

"Yes." Jareth didn't elaborate. He glared at the goblins clustered around Sarah and immediately they looked sheepish, moving closer to her so they could hide behind her legs and clutch at her pants until she was afraid that they'd pull them down by mistake. "I think my subjects have been very naughty to wake you, and I do apologize profusely. Perhaps I should bog the lot of you?" This last was directed at the goblins and they quivered.

Jareth frowned. "Although, Jeebo knows how to write, so I can't see how he gave you gibberish."

Sarah took the list from Jeebo and presented it to the Goblin King. He took the list, reading it over, his frown deepening. "This is gibberish," he said.

"I _know_!"

"But, it makes no sense. I taught Jeebo how to write myself, when I was particularly bored one day." Jareth tapped a finger against his lower lip, thoughtfully, and Sarah found herself watching the motion until she forced her gaze away. Finally, Jareth turned the paper over and, with a flourish of his hand, a pencil appeared in his grip. He offered both to Jeebo and said, "Jeebo, my good goblin, please write your name."

Jeebo dutifully took the paper and pencil, then sat on the stone floor and with his pink tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth, he wrote: _Jeebo_.

"Hmm," Jareth said, "now please write 'cake.' "

The soft sound of the pencil scratching against the paper was the only thing that could be heard; the goblins were hushed and wide-eyed as they watched Jeebo write. Sarah found herself leaning forward to watch, as well.

Jeebo wrote: _Cak3_.

"Close enough, I suppose…" Jareth thought for another moment. "Write out 'chicken,' Jeebo."

Jeebo seemed to find this word easier, for he quickly wrote: _Chicken_.

"Of course," Jareth muttered, rolling his eyes. "Finally, Jeebo, write 'potatoes.'"

Jeebo wrote: _Dwimng_.

Jareth frowned. "Write 'peaches.'"

Sarah twitched a little when she heard the word.

Jeebo wrote: _Lawfn_.

Jareth said, through clenched teeth, "Write 'apples.'"

Jeebo wrote: _Yasrow_.

Jareth sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You haven't been practicing, have you?"

Jeebo had the decency to look sheepish as he said, "Well, you see, Kingy, there's just so much to _do_…"

"Do? _Do? _What on Earth are you talking about? What do you have to do besides race chickens, play poker—if you can even call it that—and occasionally collect a wished away child?" Jareth threw up his hands in frustration. "Bog! All of you, bog!"

Immediately, all the goblins around Sarah disappeared. She had been watching this whole exchange with the rapt fascination of someone watching a stage show, but when the goblins disappeared, she found her back stiffening and she said, "There's no reason to bog the lot of them for not knowing how to _write_."

"And what about the pains they've put you through, which you told me in great detail the moment you came here?" Jareth asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sarah frowned. Okay, so she had been angry, but now that the moment was gone, she found her anger also had quickly dissipated. She said, "I definitely didn't want them _bogged_. Don't bog them, Jareth."

"The way I punish my subjects really is of no concern to you, Sarah," Jareth said.

Sarah felt a little guilty, after all she'd complained about the goblins and now they were all probably hanging off a ledge overlooking the Bog of Eternal Stench, just like she'd been forced to do that one time. _Speaking of which, _Sarah thought, eyeing Jareth, _that's one thing I'm not sure I forgive Jareth for. _Nothing stunk like the Bog of Eternal Stench.

She sighed, her guilt growing. "Look, I'll help you with your party if you don't bog the goblins."

Jareth's eyebrows rose and his tilted, mismatched eyes sparkled with mischief and mirth. Sarah wasn't sure this was a good sign. "Indeed, that's an intriguing prospect." Jareth leaned back and for a few seconds, his eyes stared off into the distance, then he focused on Sarah again and said, "They are no longer in the Bog."

Sarah looked around, but the throne room was still goblin-free. "Where are they now?"

"Oubliette."

"But—"

"Sarah, they _do _need to learn, otherwise the mischievous little things will just keep causing trouble and thinking it's just fine to do. And, you mentioned a good point: what _if _your friend—Jessica, was it?—had woken up? Not everyone should be privileged enough to know of the Underground," Jareth said. "Besides, the goblins are surprisingly resilient and _like_ a bit of punishment now and then. They view almost everything as a game." This last bit was said with an ironic smile.

"Now," Jareth said, standing and adjusting his gloves for a moment, "you did promise…"

"Yes, yes." Sarah waved a hand to stop him from making any arguments. She had promised and she intended to help, although it was a bit surreal that she was helping the Goblin King plan a Christmas party. Then, a thought struck her and she frowned. "Actually, Jareth, I don't see why you don't just wave your hand—or do one of your crystal ball tricks—and make all the food and what-not appear."

"Ah, well," Jareth sighed, "I would, of course, but I can't actually make anything appear that I haven't _seen _before. I must have some frame of reference, otherwise things tend to look a bit…off when I create them. It's worse for food. I must actually have _tasted _the food, otherwise they won't taste right when created by magic."

"Makes sense I suppose," Sarah said, thoughtfully. She remembered the dream peach she'd ate. It had been the sweetest, juiciest fruit she'd ever had; a perfectly ripe peach. So, Jareth had tasted peaches before, and apparently could improve on the flavor until it was perfected. Now that she thought about it, perhaps its deliciousness should have tipped Sarah off, but at the time she'd been very hungry. "Wait, but what about the ballroom and the dancers? And the clothes? Did you have the ballroom prepared or have you done that kind of thing before?"

"Clothes are simple. I know what a gown should look like and how clothes should fit. The rest is just embellishments," Jareth said. "As for the ballroom, that was _your _dream, Precious. I just dipped into your mind—momentarily, of course—and used it as my source material, so to speak."

"You _dipped _into my _mind_?" Sarah said, indignantly. She took a step back, as if physical distance might keep her safe from such a thing happening again. "I don't think I like the sound of that. Can you just read my mind whenever you want?"

"Rest assured, Sarah, I do not read minds willy-nilly. It was the peach that brought your defenses down."

Sarah relaxed. "That's good to know."

"But, enough about this. Shall we get started?" Jareth said.

"Okay."

They stood, looking at each other expectantly, until Sarah had to look away. She cleared her throat and said, "Um, what would you like me to do?"

Jareth frowned. "I don't know, what does one usually do? From my source material, it seems I need food and decorations and something known as 'Egg Nog' and something else known as 'mistletoe' and a pine tree that's adequately…"

He stopped and Sarah looked up to see his gaze was directed at her. She looked down to see what he was staring at with that slight smile. It was her hand, the one with the ring on it. Before she could say anything—or even think of something to say—he reached forward and lightly grasped her hand, bringing it up so he could see the ring more closely. Sarah was forced to take a few steps forward. His gloves were surprisingly soft, even more so than kid gloves, and Sarah shivered feeling his hand cup her own.

"Ah, you opened the present then," he said, softly, looking at the ring.

"Of—" she had to clear her throat, as there was a slight tremor that gave away just what an effect the Goblin King was having on her, and started over. She said, this time her voice more level, "Of course. It was a nice thought, thank you, you didn't have to get me a Christmas present." She paused, and because she had to know the answer, she added, "Why did you give the ring back? I gave it to the Wise Man freely."

"I know." Jareth smiled. "Besides your memory, you left two things in the Labyrinth: a plastic bracelet given to a dwarf," Sarah smiled to hear the distaste in Jareth's voice, "and while it was a kind gesture, to be sure, although whether it was _necessary_ is debatable, it was unlike this. An item truly loved, given freely for a bit of advice. I'm afraid that you overpaid the Wise Man."

"I'm sure I did, that's a real ruby," Sarah joked. "But, I had nothing else."

Jareth looked at her reproachfully. "I meant its value was in how important it was to _you_. Jewels, gold, silver…it doesn't have as much value in the Underground as dreams, wishes, love."

"I know…" What Jareth said made perfect sense, because the Underground was her perfect fairytale place, where magic was real and everything she hoped and dreamed for could actually happen. And she was back here, when she thought her adventures were over, she was back. There was an exhilarating excitement bubbling in her stomach from the thought and she couldn't help a smile breaking over her face. "Anyway, you haven't really answered my question. Why did you give the ring back to me? Just because it was worth more than the advice I received from the Wise Man?"

"Ah, well, it looks better back on your finger than in the junk pile."

"It was in the junk pile?" Sarah exclaimed, indignant.

Jareth chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Sarah, what do you expect? The first thing you'll learn about the Underground is that the creatures in it quickly lose interest in almost anything." He paused. "It's very hard to keep a conversation going, as a result."

"So you thought to save it from the junk pile by giving it back to me?" A part of her was telling her to shut up. It was rude to question a gift, and what did it matter anyway? But the rest of her really wanted to know the answer, so she couldn't help but keep asking.

"Yes—and no. I also thought it looked better on you," Jareth said, but his smile was enigmatic. He paused, regarding her hand again, and then added, "However, I think the ring will look better on a _different _finger."

Sarah shivered as he pulled the ring from her finger, his touch gentle, and slid it onto her right ring finger. He then kissed the top of her right hand, a quick brush of feathery soft lips against her skin, but it was electric, sending tingling bolts through her body. He released her hand and it was only then that Sarah realized that she had unconsciously slipped the ring onto her left ring finger, and now that finger was bare once again.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **My dear readers, I'm going to take a moment to clear something up that hasn't really come up yet, but may. As I was writing this chapter, I suddenly thought that Christmas really means many different things to many different people and I may be opening a kettle of worms by having Jareth try to plan a Christmas/holiday party. My own background and life has always stressed that Christmas is a time to spend with loved one, and appreciate those loved ones. And yes, there's gifts and Christmas trees and really good food, too. But, it's specifically a time to be with those you love. The Christmas that Sarah has is kind of the same thing and Jareth, who has never experienced Christmas before, gains all his information from more popular literary sources (specifically _A Christmas Carol_ and _The Grinch Who Stole Christmas_). I would go into more depth with what I want to do with this story, thematically, and the realization Jareth will come to at the end of the tale, but I unfortunately cannot do that without giving away plot points...so I'll hold off. But, what I'm trying to say is that if Christmas is first and foremost a religious holiday for you, PLEASE do not be offended by my story or the lack of those themes. I mean merely to entertain, not to offend. If you have any concerns or comments about this, you may review, but please be considerate.

OK, that being said, I shall now move on...

The chapter turned really long, so I chopped it into half. The next portion should be up tomorrow. :) I've also realized (not for the first time) that I am not talented in thinking up chapter titles. Heh. And yes, for those of you wondering, I have recovered from the New Year's festivities, including the lingering vestiges of my head cold. Yesterday was kind of "catch up on sleep" day. LOL. Next time on "State of Mind": preparing for a party is hard work, even if you're the Goblin King. And how to avoid (or not) those awkward adult situations. Oh yes, and the Egg Nog that I keep mentioning should finally make an appearance :P

**Please review,** what did you think? All comments/questions/suggestions welcomed and answered. I'm interested in knowing...why do **YOU** think Jareth moved the ruby ring from Sarah's left ring finger to her right? :D

And now, just a few shout-outs:

**FaeriesMidwife:** I know this is but a tantalizing taste of Jareth/Sarah, but I hope it fulfills SOME of the craving. ;) And luckily, 90% of the rest of State of Mind will be with them interacting in all kinds of ways. XD

**TichTich2: **I personally think Sarah should listen to her devious inner voice more often, but she never does. Jareth has a sensible inner voice, although it hasn't made much of an appearance, yet. :D And thanks for the holiday wishes! I did enjoy myself immensely. Hope you had fun, too!

**Kou Shun'u: **I couldn't picture goblins looking for tissues to wipe anything. They probably are firm believers of "spit shine." ;) As for the Nightmare Before Christmas-ness, it was totally unintentional, LOL, but I'm amused by it, nonetheless. I can't say if anything else will be similar, though. Thanks for the compliments!

**StoryLake:** I'm afraid I'm not sure if I'm talented enough to come up with something not used before...somewhere. I'm sure all mediums, including fanfics, have used all the story combination available to them. I just hope that I tell a good, entertaining story -- or, at least, I write a story that _I _find amusing and entertaining. :D As for Jareth, I love his otherworldliness, and I TRY my hardest to keep even a little of that in ALL my stories (some stories have more, some have less). Whether I'm successful...I'm not entirely sure. Thank you, as always, for the thought-provoking and thoughtful reviews.

**Luna Andie:** In a way, Jareth says why in this chapter. But, I feel Jareth always likes to remain enigmatic, especially when it comes to Sarah. :D

**ChilaliSnowbird:** Well, it's Jeebo, he's an overconfident little goblin! I was really tempted to actually have Jareth asleep on his throne with an eye-mask or something, but in the end I decided to give him more dignity. :P Oh, and...*cookie*

**Pinfeathers: **More trouble, of course. Sarah can never be free of the Underground! It's just not allowed. XD

**Cybernetic Mango: ***gasp* But Jareth's pants are extra tight! EXTRA TIGHT!! XD

**Janeitesarah: **Well, Jareth DID move the ring to another finger. I wonder why he did that? *enigmatic smile* As for poor Jennifer, her part in this story is not yet done... ;)

**MyraValhallah, notwritten: **Thank you as always for the wonderful reviews and I'm very thrilled you're enjoying the story so far!

Bah...sorry for the long author's notes...

_The Fine Print: As always, I own nothing in regards to the original idea of the Labyrinth, the Underground, Jareth (he refused the crystal I offered him XD), Sarah, etc., etc. I can only claim ownership of my own, original ideas._


	6. Decorating for a Party Goblin King Style

**Chapter Six: Decorating for a Party, Goblin King Style **

Sarah stepped back feeling a little dazed by Jareth's actions, and the back of her hand tingled where his lips had touched her skin. She licked her lips and said, "You haven't told me what needs to be done for the party."

Jareth smiled, as if her reaction was completely expected, but his eyes looked a little…disappointed? Sarah shook her head, then focused on his words as he said, "Yes, what was I saying? Oh yes, my source material seems to talk about things like food, presents, stockings, a decorated pine tree, something known as 'mistletoe' and 'Egg Nog'—"

"One thing at a time," Sarah said, smiling despite herself. She looked around the throne room and remembered, although it was fuzzy from the amount of time that had passed, how huge the Castle Beyond the Goblin City had looked. She scratched her chin, thoughtfully, and said, "Are you going to decorate the whole castle? Because that could take awhile, unless you can magic all the decorations up."

Jareth said, "The feast will take place in the main room, there's all I need there: a fireplace, enough room for the tree and a table—"

"What _exactly_ is your 'source material'?" Sarah asked.

"Well, there have been many books I procured on the subject, but these have been my favorites," Jareth held out his hands and in the blink of an eye, he held a stack of books.

Sarah tilted her head to read the covers. "_A Christmas Carol_, _Polar Express_, _the Grinch that Stole Christmas_, _A Christmas Tree: A Pop-Out Book_." Sarah laughed, despite herself, and when she caught the frown on Jareth's face from her reaction, she couldn't help but laugh again. She waved a hand and said, "Sorry Jareth, it's just…I've never known anyone to try to figure out the holidays just from books. But, I suppose it's a good thing you didn't learn about Christmas from movies. What if the first thing you'd seen was _Jingle All the Way_?"

"Are these sources wrong?" The books disappeared a moment later and Jareth had his arms crossed over his chest.

"Well, I'm partial to Dr. Seuss, myself." Sarah smiled and said, "Come on, we'll figure it out, I'm sure." In her excitement and amusement about this adventure, she forgot herself for a moment and grabbed Jareth's hand. He stiffened slightly, but she didn't notice. "Show me where the party's going to be!"

Jareth looked into her shining, excited eyes and thought about green forests, the kind that were slowly disappearing now that humanity had conquered iron and fire. The fluttering in his stomach was getting worse, if it kept like this, he may have to go see the Wise Man himself—or maybe the junk lady. He pulled Sarah closer and while she did take those few steps until they were nearly touching, her eyes widened and she looked at him with a wariness that he didn't like to see in those green depths. He said, "It's faster to just go there magically."

Before she could argue, or say anything, he whisked them away from the throne room. Sarah gasped, and when she exhaled, she was in an entirely different room. She had to take a step to ease some of the dizziness away and murmured, "A person could get fat being teleported everywhere, they'd lose the knack of walking."

Jareth raised an eyebrow and said, "Is that a quip at my magic—or my _appearance—_Precious?"

"No." She purposefully swept her gaze along his body, which made his eyes darken and an amused smile graced his lips, and she said, again, "No." But, then she put a hand to her forehead. "Although it makes me dizzy."

"That's just because you're not used to such travel. If you did it more often…" Jareth seemed to realize what he was saying and cleared his throat, then turned away and made a grand, sweeping gesture. "Here is where the celebration will be."

Sarah looked around and she had to admit that it was a grand room. It was large, with a huge fireplace big enough for a grown man to walk inside of if he stooped only a little, and probably as wide as his arm's length.

There were four floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed plenty of natural light to filter through, and showed off a breathtaking view of the Labyrinth on the right side, and on the left, green grasses and low hills until the horizon. A long table made out of dark, rich wood was already situated in the center of the room with matching chairs clustered around it. Sarah quickly counted the chairs and her eyebrows lifted when the final number was over three dozen.

Jareth, meanwhile, was growling in front of the fireplace. That was the only way to describe the noise coming from his throat, and the deep frown on his face didn't look pleasant. She turned back to the fireplace and noticed that along the mantle the goblins had hung…socks. She had overlooked them because the huge maw of the fireplace had distracted her, and then the huge windows had distracted her, and then the huge table…actually there were a lot of things in this room that could be distracting.

She went over to the fireplace and patted Jareth on the shoulder, consolingly. Now that she had experienced how pesky the goblins could be, she had a whole new respect for Jareth's patience, which he must have in order to be their king.

"I told them _stockings_. Stockings!" Jareth made a quick flourish with his hand and a book appeared. Sarah only saw the familiar, glittery Christmas tree on the cover that identified it as the pop-up book before Jareth had opened it to show her a page. Popping out of the book was a huge, cozy-looking fireplace where a cat had curled up on a purple-and-green rug. In the background was a family of four reading, the children on their stomachs while the parents snuggled on a sofa. Sarah gave the whole scene an incredulous look, since it seemed so…well, perfect.

Jareth pointed to the fireplace. Above it, on the mantle, were stockings hung in a neat line. They were the stereotypical red, fuzzy kind with white tops. Each stocking was popping out of the book, attached by thin pieces of cardboard so when the book moved, they bobbed as if inviting people to put gifts inside of them. They even had some sort of fuzzy material pasted onto them.

_Pretty ingenious book, _Sarah thought, touching the stockings.

In his agitated annoyance, Jareth snapped the book closed almost on top of Sarah's fingers, but she jerked them back just in time. "These," Jareth said, pointing, "are _socks_. Imbecilic creatures."

"Don't worry, they may be just socks, but the _thought _is there and that's what…" Sarah stopped, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the socks. There were about two dozen of them, and amongst them was a familiar hot pink sock with black skulls on it. "Hey! That's my sock!"

She reached out and yanked the sock down, stuffing it into the pocket of her pajama bottoms. She looked at another sock and noticed that although it was white, there were glittery threads of silver in it.

"This sock is mine, too!" Sarah yelped, yanking that down as well. She looked at the others, but these weren't familiar to her, they looked like any kind of sock a person bought in bulk. "I bet these are all socks from Jennifer's apartment!"

Jareth said, "You own _pink _socks? I would not have thought—"

"They're novelty socks, they're _meant _to look odd."

Jareth grinned. "You can have the socks back."

Sarah considered it, but then she didn't know if they really had been Jennifer's, plus they were just socks. She could already imagine the disappointed looks the goblins would give her if she took them away—the same types of looks they had given her when she'd tried to refuse to help them. She sighed and said, "No, it'll be fine. They're just socks after all. If Jennifer says she's missing any, I'll just buy her a bag of 'em next time I'm at the store." She added, under her breath, "I'm taking mine back, though."

"Perhaps we should move on?" Jareth seemed to be in a much better mood now, the irritation at finding the socks—instead of stockings—gone. Sarah took a deep breath and followed his lead. He went to the table and said, "This is where the food will be, and there," he pointed along the walls, "the decorations will hang. And in that corner," he pointed again, "will be the Christmas tree."

Sarah looked around and smiled. "I can see it all."

"Can you?" Jareth let his hands drop to his sides and gave her an odd look. "May I see?"

"What do you mean?"

Jareth took a step closer and Sarah suddenly felt uneasy. He was looking at her so seriously, although his mismatched eyes sparked with curiosity. She didn't know how to react to a serious Jareth.

"Like with the ballroom, I was able to lift something out of your mind and create it. Your imagination is so vivid, Sarah, if I could _see _it as you _see _it," he waved, indicating the room, "I could make it real."

"You mean you want to—how did you put it?—'dip into my mind.'" Sarah shook her head, taking a step back. "I think you can make it look fine by yourself, without needing to look at my thoughts. And I am _not _eating one of your peaches again."

"So untrusting," Jareth said, and although he smiled with amusement, it didn't reach his eyes. "Are you always going to hold that against me? I was playing the villain, you know."

"Which, by your own admission, you like to do!"

"Well, yes, but you must admit…having a villain around is so much more _interesting _than those boring, run-of-the-mill heroes."

"You can count on a hero to save you if need be!"

"And who says a villain won't save someone? A villain can be rather noble," Jareth said, softly, "if only for his own reasons."

Jareth was so close to her now, he could have leaned forward and kissed her. Sarah watched his face, her heart pounding so hard she was sure that he could hear it. With a feather-light touch, Jareth brushed his fingertips along the edge of her jaw. She shuddered, feeling those soft gloves dance across her flesh and wishing it had been skin-on-skin contact, despite herself, despite everything she knew about the Goblin King.

"After all," Jareth continued, "isn't a villain just someone _else's _hero?"

Why was he looking at her like that?

_Who cares? _The devious part of her whispered in her mind. _Why not kiss him? He's close enough._

_Shut up, _Sarah thought.

_It's easy—just lean forward!_

_Shut up!_

Sarah shook her head and took a step back, and something in Jareth's eyes dimmed with disappointment. He gave her a small smile and said, "What if I told you that there'd be no peaches, no 'dipping' as you put it?" He held his hand out, his palm cupped, and a crystal appeared in the palm of his hand. Sarah stared at it with wide eyes.

"What if I told you all it required was for you to _hold _this crystal?" Jareth asked.

Sarah looked at him suspiciously, but he looked so serious and hopeful that after a moment, with a slightly trembling hand—she hoped he couldn't see that tremor—she lifted the crystal and cupped it in her own palm.

Immediately, the crystal flared with a brilliant white light that made Sarah look away and close her eyes. When she opened her eyes again, there were dark spots dancing in front of them and it took her a few moments to blink them away. Then she looked back and the first thing she saw was the Goblin King's face, illuminated by the light, which wasn't flaring anymore, coming from the crystal. He was staring into its depths with rapt fascination.

With his attention off of her, Sarah studied his features and had to admit that he looked—well, otherworldly. No human's eyebrows swept up like a bird's wing, no eyes were that tilted and exotic. Although he had harsh, angular features and thin lips, Sarah found herself fascinated by them.

She wasn't fifteen anymore, she could have naughty thoughts of the Goblin King and know _exactly _where it could all lead: satisfaction. And she bet that the Goblin King knew how to deliver. What would it be like to kiss such a wild, inhuman man? What would he smell like? Taste like? How would he touch, tease, look at her when immersed in passion?

_You know, it would be really easy to find out, _that part of her that was becoming all too familiar immediately quipped. _He seems like a normal man in _some _respects. _Sarah purposefully did not look below Jareth's face; she didn't want to give her devious side the satisfaction. _I bet he wouldn't argue if you, you know, _initiated_._

Sarah fought the sigh as she thought, _Give myself an inch and I'll take a mile…apparently. I am not going to seduce the Goblin King. I don't even know him! _And _that _was the end to _that _argument.

She looked into the crystal and, for the moment, forgot everything she had been thinking of. The crystal was showing her the very room they both stood in—except it was decked out in every kind of holiday finery. There were soft rugs on the floor, shimmery curtains on the huge windows, and a fire roaring in the fireplace. On the mantle were those silly socks, but there were also two "normal" stockings—the red-and-white kind. In the corner Jareth had indicated was a huge, green Christmas tree. It looked to be at least seven feet tall, a few feet shorter than the ceiling, and it was breathtakingly decorated with ornaments in all kinds of colors—blue, green, red, silver, gold, purple. Garlands of shimmery tinsel wound around it. But the most breathtaking ornaments were the miniature crystals, familiar because they looked like smaller versions of Jareth's crystals, floating in the tree's branches. Each one gave off a soft glow.

The table had been decorated, too. It now had a rich, wine red table cloth over it. Simple, white dishes were laid out with silver cutlery. There were wine goblets for two spots at the table, and tankards for the goblins.

"Oh boy," Sarah said, since it was all she could think of saying. She found it shocking to see what she had _imagined in her mind _laid out before her in this tiny crystal. Yes, Jareth had told her that was what would happen, but _seeing _her mind's imaginings was a little disconcerting.

Jareth said, "I like it, Precious. Close your eyes."

"Why?"

Jareth looked up then, and smiled. "You said teleporting was agitating for you. This will be similar, as the whole room is going to change."

"Oh…okay."

Sarah closed her eyes. She didn't feel anything happen, but after a few moments, Jareth said, "You may open them now, Precious."

Sarah opened her eyes slowly and her mouth fell open as she stared around the room. It matched what was shown in the crystal now: there were carpets on the floor, decorations on the wall (mostly wreaths, but tissue snowflakes also hung from the ceilings), the table was decorated and simply awaited food, and the tree was magnificent. Sarah stared at it for a very long time, tears filling her eyes as she thought about her own Christmas memories. She hadn't had a tree to decorate this year, and even if she hadn't done the physical work to decorate this tree, she felt like it was still decorated _by _her. After all, it was from her imagination that it had come to life.

There was even a star at the top and a red skirt around the bottom. She looked at the crystal for a moment, then held it out to Jareth. "You did a wonderful job. I'd much rather look at the product than what's in the crystal."

Jareth grinned, and Sarah felt something close to her heart flutter. It was almost like the grin of a little boy who had been praised, or who had found a wonderful gift waiting for him. She quickly looked away and said, "So, is that it?"

"No, there's still the food." Jareth waved his hand and an overstuffed chair in a regal red color appeared in front of the fireplace, which now had a roaring fire in it. He sat in the chair and held out his gloved hands to the fireplace, as if warming himself.

"Oh, right, the food." Sarah licked her lips and said, tentatively, "I'm not a very good cook."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Precious. Besides, I just need to know the basics of how it tastes," Jareth said. "And I definitely want to try Egg Nog. Besides, I seem to be enjoying myself."

Sarah glanced at him and the expression on his face made her chuckle. It looked thoughtful and surprised. She said, "You don't have to sound so surprised about it!"

"Don't misunderstand," he said. "It's just that the goblins aren't all that good with holding a conversation. It's been a while since I've had someone to really _talk _to—I don't really talk to those who are running my Labyrinth, and the people usually wished away are children. It's refreshing to have someone I can hold a conversation with."

"Sounds lonely," Sarah said, before she had really thought about it. She put a hand to her mouth, briefly, admonishing her slip of the tongue. It seemed cruel to remind the Goblin King of something he most surely knew. Or maybe he didn't think it was lonely and what she'd said just sounded rude to him. She quickly said, "I mean _I'd _find it lonely. After a while, I'd want someone to talk to—someone on my level."

Jareth didn't say anything, just stared into the fire, and Sarah turned to the Christmas tree. She walked to it, touching one of the pine branches. It was a real, live tree and now that she was closer, she could smell the pungent aroma of pine needles. Soon, that smell would filter through the whole room. She touched one of the crystals and was surprised to find it was slightly warm. There were also little bells tied to some of the branches and when she tapped one, it made a pleasant _ting-a-ling _sound.

When she turned back to the Goblin King, he had stood from the chair and was watching her with an odd expression on his face, one she couldn't decipher. She said, "Anyway, I'll help you with the cooking, if you want. Just show me where the kitchen is."

Jareth obliged with a smile, holding out his hand for her. This time, Sarah didn't hesitate and took his hand, but she did close her eyes for the teleportation. She could feel the slight change in room temperature and heard some strange noises—not kitchen noises at all, but a soft _cluck, cluck _followed by a rustling—and she wondered where Jareth had taken her. But, before she could open her eyes, she felt Jareth step closer to her, felt the heat of his body, and her heart quickly increased its pace.

She reached out with her eyes still closed. Her hand touched his warm, solid chest. She could feel the soft, cotton fabric of his shirt underneath her hand. He put a hand over hers, the soft leather sliding across her skin and making gooseflesh erupt on her arms. The flutter near her heart became more intense.

Because she had a hand resting against him, when he leaned forward she knew and she unconsciously tipped her head up, even though she couldn't have been sure what exactly Jareth was up to. However, when his lips gently brushed hers, there was no mistaking it. He kissed her, a barest whisper of a kiss, as soft and fleeting as petals brushing against her lips. Sarah's breath hitched in her throat with shock and the sound of her heart thumping seemed to echo in her ears.

Jareth gave a small sigh, it sounded almost resigned, and then he leaned closer and gently pressed his lips to hers. Sarah trembled, but before she could decide what she wanted to do—wrap her arms around him and deepen the kiss? Wrap her _legs _around him, too? Or step away and let the kiss go?—Jareth was the one who broke it and took a step back.

Sarah opened her eyes and they stared at each other without a word. She probably looked shocked and flushed. Jareth looked a little shocked, himself, and while he wasn't flushed his eyes seemed a few shades darker; the kiss had definitely affected him, too. But now the problem was what to do from here. Acknowledge the kiss or let it go?

Jareth was the first to act again, for he looked away and said, "The kitchens, Sarah."

_So it's "Sarah" now? _She thought, and oddly she felt disappointed. She licked her lips, trying to get a lingering taste of him. He watched the gesture and his eyes darkened even further. She doubted he was thinking about the kitchens or food, and she couldn't help but smile with some satisfaction.

_Ah, Jareth, _she thought, _I don't know what game you're playing, but whatever it is, I won't back down._

Jareth twitched, as if he had heard that comment, which was silly but Sarah felt flustered anyway and quickly looked out over the kitchen. It was the largest she'd ever seen, with ample counter space, four ovens, two stoves, and a refrigerator that was _triple _the size of the average one Aboveground. She wondered what they all ran on, for she hadn't seen any power outlets.

_Magic, _she assumed.

As she looked around, she was able to identify what was making that odd noise she'd noticed earlier: the _cluck, cluck_ and the rustling. Her eyebrows raised and she glanced at Jareth. "Why are there chickens in the kitchen?"

Jareth saw the annoying little bags of feathers walking around the kitchen, pecking occasionally at the stone floor or a wood cabinet. He frowned, welcoming the irritation that grumbled in the pit of his stomach. It overrode that damn fluttering feeling, which had only gotten worse as the night had worn on. Maybe he had indigestion, although it was odd that when he had teleported Sarah and found himself suddenly looking at her face, with her eyes closed, that the feeling had become worse.

He had looked at her longer than perhaps he should, but her eyes were closed so the wariness she usually had when around him—her childhood nemesis, after all—wasn't there. She was breathing evenly and he was able to appreciate her grown-up form. He had swept his eyes over her, taking in her strange apparel—why were there sheep on her pants?—and finishing on her mussed hair, most likely because she had been asleep when the goblins had awoken her. His hand twitched and he had the urge to run his fingers through the black locks to try and straighten them, bringing them back to some order, and to see if her hair was as soft as it looked. But, then, she had licked her lips—probably a gesture she hadn't even been aware of—he had become thoroughly distracted by those full lips. And then he had noticed how long and dark her eyelashes where; they cast little shadows on her cheeks.

Jareth had groaned inwardly and before he had really realized what he was doing, he had stepped forward. Her breathing had quickened as she sensed his approach, but for some reason she hadn't opened her eyes, yet her reaction had pleased him.

The kiss had been tantalizing and yet left him wanting more. He indulged in the barest brush of lips, afraid she would reject him immediately, but to his surprise she didn't move except for purse her lips slightly when he broke the kiss. Almost as if she expected more—could she _want_ more?

Jareth sighed, knowing he couldn't deny himself another taste of her, and bent and kissed her again, but his traitorous mind was a cacophony of confusion. What was he _doing? _This was _Sarah, _who had defeated him! Who had thrown back all the gifts he had offered her! Why was he trying to kiss her, when the only result in such an endeavor would be more rejection?

Abruptly, Jareth broke the kiss, but he did feel infinitely satisfied to watch her open her eyes and look at him with confusion and flushed cheeks. When she licked her lips, he felt fire run through his body and settle in his abdomen. She was just too tempting. Perhaps he should have thought more carefully about taking her offer to help with his party plans, but he had been overcome with the novelty of actually having someone to talk to. It had been so long since the last time he'd had a conversation with someone that had the mental capacity beyond a child or goblin.

_The last time was with that old woman who wished away her grandchild, _Jareth thought, remembering that particular 13 hours with a shudder. He still could remember some of the conversation, despite his numerous attempts to block the whole thing from his memory. It was simply embarrassing that he, the Goblin King, would argue with a geriatric old woman.

"_Speak up, sonny," the old woman said. She smelled like garlic, which wasn't particularly pleasant._

"_I said, madam," Jareth repeated for the third time through clenched teeth, "that I am the _Goblin King_! I've taken away your grandson and you may not have him back until you complete the Labyrinth, although, I'm not entirely sure you can, to be frank. It requires a bit of walking and climbing…"_

"_No respect these days from the younger generations!" the old woman said, poking Jareth in the stomach with her cane. The Goblin King raised an eyebrow with irritation. "In _my _day, younger folk helped their elders in any way they needed. If my granny needed to walk somewhere, I'd offer her my arm the entire way! _And _help her navigate the streets. Poor old soul wasn't very good with directions, you see—"_

"_Madam," Jareth said, slowly, and with a wolfish smile that looked particularly villainous, "I assure you, if anyone is the 'older generation' here, it will be _me_."_

In the end, he'd had to keep the child anyway. He felt guilty about that, but he'd offered her as many amenities as possible to make up for her handicaps due to age. He'd offered her an automotive cart, which used much the same technology as the Cleaner's contraption had, but she'd merely poked at the goblins with her cane until they had eaten the stick in frustration. Eventually, she'd asked to go home and Jareth had erased the memory of the grandchild, which may have been for the best. The woman was too old to really care for a child, but the boy had no parents or other relatives.

Jareth blinked, coming out of his reveries when Sarah said, "You know, I don't think chickens in the kitchen is very sanitary, Jareth."

"Indeed, I agree, and I have _told _the goblins time and time again not to bring the chickens here, but I don't know why I bother." Jareth sighed. "Chickens and goblins go together like…like Fireys and dancing. I've never been able to understand it. Annoying creatures, chickens, especially ones that have been around goblins for any amount of time."

Jareth sighed and waved his hand and suddenly the kitchen was chicken-free, although a few feathers fluttered to the ground. Sarah said, "Where did you send them?"

Jareth clenched his jaw as a tendril of unhappy irritation briefly blazed through his body. He would never understand Sarah's tendency to be kind to _all _creatures—well, except for him, of course. She had no difficulty being cruel to _him_.

_Isn't that one of the reasons you're fascinated with her? _The sensible side of him whispered in his mind. _Because she can be just as cruel as you can? But also kinder than you've ever been?_

Jareth blinked, surprised to hear the voice. He had ignoring it for so long, after all. He thought, _Well, yes, but it's still irritating!_

Sarah turned to him, putting her hands on her hips and smiling, and said, "Shall we?" She was a little curious about the odd expression on Jareth's face, but after a moment, she chalked it up to his continued ire at the whole chicken thing.

"Indeed, lets."

"I think we'll make the Egg Nog first," Sarah said, after a moment. "After all, it'll keep us nicely warm while we work on the rest of the food." She paused, realizing she had been saying "we" but she couldn't imagine Jareth in the kitchen _cooking_. She tried to imagine him in an apron, mixing out flour and milk, and she had to clamp her lips tight to keep from giggling.

"Um, are you going to help?" she asked Jareth shyly. The kitchen was so large and empty; she didn't want to be left alone. When she saw Jareth hesitate, she added, "In my family, everyone cooks something, and then we have a large dinner on Christmas Day. But the eating is just kind of like the ending to a good story, because the most fun is the actual cooking. Everyone's in the kitchen, laughing and tasting and running around each other. It's the best part!"

Jareth hesitated for a moment longer and Sarah took a deep breath and said, blushing, "I—I would greatly appreciate the company."

Jareth smiled. "How can I refuse such an invitation? Alright, I will procure the ingredients—and taste the final results, of course—just tell me what you need."

"Will that work? I mean, you said magic can make things taste funny—"

"Only if I've never sampled them myself before, however over the course of human history I have come in contact with most ingredients, like eggs, milk, fruit, and for those things I haven't tried I can take them from the Aboveground. A pantry suddenly without flour, for example, won't be a huge issue."

Sarah frowned. "Well, why don't you just make some feast disappear from Aboveground, then?"

Jareth raised his eyebrows and said, "Didn't you just say that the fun was actually _cooking_ the food?"

_Yes, with my family, _Sarah thought, but she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud so she sighed and said, "I suppose I did. Let's get started then. First, I'm going to need some eggs…"

To her surprise, cooking with Jareth was more fun than she would have imagined. While he didn't get his hands dirty, he did make all the ingredients she need appear out of thin air, portioned as she described, so all she needed to do was dump them into the mixing bowl—which also appeared out of nowhere—and once she was done with anything, it disappeared away. There wasn't any cleaning that needed to be done. Not only that, but Jareth watched with rapt fascination at how everything was layered into the bowl and slowly formed into Egg Nog and Sarah found herself talking to him easily, instructing him, and answering any questions he had (that she could answer, for she wasn't a professional chef, after all) about taste and texture.

Sarah had always been proud of her Egg Nog. Ever since she'd turned twenty-one, she'd made a batch for Christmas, and Karen and her Dad always raved that her Egg Nog was the best. _"Once you've had this stuff, you can never go back to store bought," _her father had said the first time she'd made it.

"The secret," she said, smiling, "is to not overpower the 'Nog with alcohol and use whole nutmeg grated into the mixture." She tapped the nutmeg against the grater after finishing and gave the Egg Nog one last good stir. She then emptied the egg foam on top. It was in a pretty, ceramic jug that Jareth had magicked out of thin air, and two matching, tall mugs appeared next to it, which she poured the Egg Nog into, then added a bit of foam at the top of each glass.

Jareth, his eyes sparkling with excitement, was the first to sample it. Sarah leaned forward and said, "How is it?"

Jareth looked at the concoction with surprise. "Quite heavenly, actually. Much better than any alcoholic beverage the goblins drink. _Much _better." He took another long gulp and when he put the glass down, there was foam on his lip. He licked away most of it—and watching his tongue slide over his lips made Sarah shiver and a heat form in her abdomen—but there was still a bit of foam in the corner of his mouth.

"I'm glad you liked it," Sarah said, smiling, and before she had really thought about what she was doing, she reached out and wiped away the bit of foam with the pad of her thumb.

Jareth stiffened and lightning-quick, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. Their eyes met and something arced and danced between them. His gaze was hot, melting something inside of her, making her feel almost light-headed with desire.

Oh yes, she desired the Goblin King, but she would bet her car that desiring the Goblin King would lead to trouble.

_Delicious, spine-tingling, toe-curling, melt-in-your-mouth trouble, _the devious part of her whispered in her mind, and the adjectives it supplied made her shiver.

Sarah ignored the voice, again, but she noticed it was getting much more difficult—especially when the devious part of her was using adjectives like _spine-tingling, toe-curling, _and _melt-in-your-mouth_. No doubt, that devious side of her was making note of that and cataloging it away for future torment. How was a girl supposed to stay strong when she was not only in the proximity of the incredibly handsome Goblin King, but also being goaded by her own mind?

_You don't, _her devious side said, laughing. _You'll give in eventually, it's inevitable. But, on the plus side, it's going to be infinitely enjoyable, too. I can't wait!_

_Me neither, _Sarah thought, despite herself. She tugged at her wrist and Jareth, after narrowing his eyes for a moment (he was transfixed and a little suspicious by the expression on Sarah's face, and distracted by how her warm, green eyes, which were particularly dark and beautiful at that moment, were looking at him) released her wrist. Sarah slowly brought her thumb to her lips and licked off the white foam.

Jareth briefly closed his eyes, shuddering.

Sarah grinned, seeing the reaction and feeling incredibly satisfied in knowing she'd caused it. She said, brightly, "So, what shall we cook next?"

* * *

**Author's Notes:** My, my, this chapter turned out longer than my usual, you lucky readers, you. ;) Next one should be up tomorrow or the day after (dependent on whether I get what I NEED to get done...done). However, I offer you, my wonderful readers, a chance to add your two cents into the story. What do **YOU** think Sarah and Jareth should make? What is essential in a good, holiday feast? (Unfortunately, the goblins will probably rebel if Jareth tries anything with chicken...) Review and let me know! All suggestions are welcome, most will likely be included, with a shout-out in the next chapter! :)

Yes, the next chapter will include more cooking/baking...but it also has quite a bit of adult-style touching, too. MUHAHA. Yes, I know, some of you are saying: _Finally! _:P

Oh yes, I seem to be a bit addicted to reviews. They definitely encourage me, and give me warm fuzzy feelings that keep me warm despite the cold nights here. :D So please review -- all comments/questions/suggestions welcomed and replied to! -- otherwise I may do something evil and wrong in a fit of a review-starved haze. Like make the chickens come back and break up Jareth and Sarah's party...

_("Oh Sarah, my love, let us be together for all time!" Jareth said, dramatically, sweeping Sarah into his arms._

_"Oh, Jareth! I cannot be without you a moment longer! Let's go to YOUR ROOM where there's, no doubt, a comfortable bed!" Sarah said, kissing Jareth soundly._

_"Indeed, I cannot wait to undress you one item at a time, kissing your lovely flesh until I make my way to..." Jareth is cut off when suddenly a horde of chickens descend from the skies, one particularly vicious one manages to fly directly into Jareth's face and he yelps, releasing Sarah to bat at the chicken. "Ah! Poultry in the face!"_

_In the corner, Cordite Quill laughs evilly and mutters, as she writes on a pad of paper with a pencil, "At least Jareth managed to get his hands on some breasts..."_

_The goblins, who had been watching the whole show with buckets of popcorn, groan at the horrible pun and throw popcorn at Cordite Quill until she apologizes profusely.)_

Yes, it would be scary and mind shattering. :P

Just a few shout-outs before I head off:

**Janeitesarah: **Muhaha, I give nothing away! No matter how you try to torture or tempt me, I shall remain firm and say only that YES, there is a purpose to Jareth giving the ring.

**Luna Andie: **You raise a very good point about putting the ring on her ring finger, one I think Sarah will have to realize as the story goes on...

**FaeriesMidwife: **I managed to upload this chapter early, so hopefully it's not the last thing you do, while you're tired and hoping for bed (unless that's how you roll. LOL.)

**MyraValhallah: **I totally agree with you: I wouldn't sleep much in the Castle Beyond the Goblin City, either. But then, my devious side of me would be in total accord with my non-devious side. ;)

**Cybernetic Mango: **LOL, I totally chuckled at your comment. I might have to see if I can squeeze in cuff links into the story somewhere... As for your comment about leather paint...I'm afraid my brain kind of shorted out imagining Jareth painting himself in pants every morning. I'd let him do that to me. What?! Who said that? *whistles innocently* XD

**Tichtich2: **Cheesy? Cheesy?! Tralala! Hehe, sorry. I will only say this about the ring: not everything is as it seems. ;) Anyway, thank you for the compliments. I admit this chapter didn't have as much "laughs," I don't think, but no worries, they will be back shortly! :D

**For everyone who reviewed thus far: THANK YOU SO MUCH! *Showers you with cookies***

* * *

_The Fine Print: As always, I own none of the characters from the movie The Labyrinth. However, I do claim rights over my own original ideas._


	7. Cooking for a Party in the Underground

_This chapter is dedicated to FaeriesMidwife, whose cheering and "gentle" prodding kept me on task when I probably would have taken an extra day to finish it. I hope all of you enjoy it! :)  
_

_

* * *

_

**Chapter Seven: Cooking for a Party in the Underground **

Sarah was suddenly very thankful for her penchant for cooking. She tended to make her meals, anyway, and she oftentimes had helped or made portions of her family Christmas meal.

"Well, there's the need for a roast beast of some sort," Jareth said, thoughtfully. "It's in the source material."

"Well, if it's in the _source _material," Sarah said, unable to help herself, and laughed when Jareth narrowed his eyes at her. "Well, what shall we cook? There's always the traditional turkey, or chicken—"

"_No_, no chicken," Jareth said, shuddering.

"Don't you like chicken?"

"Oh, I find it appetizing, but, as you've no doubt noticed, the goblins keep chickens as _pets_," Jareth said, sounding so frustrated by the prospect that Sarah couldn't help but smile. She quickly took a sip of her Egg Nog to hide it. "Indeed, I have often tried to…extricate, shall we say, the goblins from their precious chickens, but to no avail. The closest I ever got was when the goblins gave me a particularly vicious chicken for my birthday present—"

"They gave you a _chicken_ as a present?"

"Oh yes. Even sprinkled it with glitter, thinking I'd like it more. Unfortunately, they forgot to feed the walking bag of feathers and it sat in the box for a whole day and a half before I, in my lamentable innocence, opened the box." Jareth paused with a sigh. "Understandably, the chicken was quite cranky from not only being shoved in a tiny box for over twenty-four hours, but from also being neglected any food or water. Immediately, it launched straight for my head with the aim of pecking out my eyes with its razor sharp beak."

"What happened?" Sarah asked, her eyes wide.

"I did what any sane monarch with magical propensity would do," Jareth answered. He seemed to notice that Sarah was intrigued by the story, for he rested his chin on his hand, leaning against the counter, so he could watch her with a slight smile playing over his lips. "I immediately whisked the chicken to the kitchens with the idea of cooking it for dinner."

"The goblins didn't like that," Sarah guessed.

"Oh, indeed they did not. I care not to remember that one hour, twenty-two minutes, and five seconds before I decided to bring the chicken back, luckily before it had been put into a pot of bowling water by Huddle."

"Huddle?"

"That dwarf you have such an affinity for," Jareth said, wrinkling his nose in distaste—and something else, something Sarah couldn't quite identify, but whatever it was, it wasn't good.

"Hoggle was working in the kitchen? Why?"

"Punishment for disobeying orders," Jareth answered. "Which is better than the alternative—the usual punishment—being bogged for three days. He has you to thank for my leniency."

Sarah frowned. He was baiting her, she knew; he wanted her to ask why he had been lenient on Hoggle for her sake, but while that made her curious, she found she had another pressing question. "Is Hoggle still around?" She swept her gaze around the empty kitchen.

"Currently, Hoggle is beyond the Labyrinth, so it would be too long to call him here," Jareth said, his expression souring a bit more. "But, I'm sure he will be back for the feast."

_Which Jareth has not yet invited me to, _Sarah realized, frowning. She opened her mouth to point this out, but then stopped when she noticed Jareth's expression and body language since they'd begun talking about Hoggle. Was he _jealous?_

_Of Hoggle? No way! _Sarah couldn't believe it. What did Jareth have to be angry about? He was the insanely good looking, magically inclined, _immortal, _fairytale king.

_Unless it has something to do with you, _her devious side pointed out.

_Which is silly, _Sarah thought. _He's been perfectly well behaved except for a few caresses and…_

…_And that kiss, _the devious side chuckled. _Don't forget the kiss—I definitely didn't!_

_Who could forget the kiss? But _he _pulled away! _Sarah thought, and since her devious side had no answer to that, she felt momentarily triumphant—and then silly. It was silly to feel triumphant for winning an argument against yourself.

She focused back on Jareth and said, "So, what happened to the chicken that tried to attack you?"

Jareth looked surprised, as if he'd forgotten their earlier discussion, then he said, with an ironic half-smile, "Jeebo won it in one of his poker matches and named it Priscilla."

"Priscilla the _chicken_?" Sarah couldn't help it, she laughed and after Jareth's momentary surprise when he heard the noise, he chuckled with her. She smiled and said, "Okay, no chicken. Turkey?"

Jareth tapped his full lower lip, thoughtfully, and Sarah couldn't help but follow the motion. He finally said, "No, too close to chicken. Could you imagine if the goblins took a liking to it—in its _live _form?" He shuddered. "Chickens are bad enough, but turkeys are significantly larger!"

"Fair enough." Sarah grinned. "Ham, then? A holiday ham, my favorite, actually."

Jareth thought for a moment, then nodded and said, "That sounds adequate. Delicious, in fact."

They began to prepare the Christmas ham. Jareth's magic was extremely handy in this respect, because he could speed up pockets of time, so the brine bath took no time whatsoever, and the resting took only seconds. But, she told him not to speed up the oven because while the ham cooked, they could prepare other things.

"I was wondering," Sarah said, as she closed the oven, "do you do many feasts and parties and stuff?" The goblins had said otherwise, but she wondered what goblins counted as a _real _party, anyway?

"No." Jareth was sitting on a stool, sipping his drink. "No real need to. Besides wishers, there's rarely anyone who comes to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. There aren't many creatures in the Underground _besides_ goblins."

"So, why have this huge kitchen, then?" Sarah asked, sweeping her hand wide to indicate the entire space. "You could probably make enough food for _two _feasts—simultaneously—with all the countertop space in here!"

Jareth grinned. "Because, Precious," he said, and his voice dipped until it was almost like it ran along her skin, silky and deliciously devious, "I am king and I deserve the best."

Jareth met her gaze and Sarah had trouble looking away from his mismatched eyes. His smile changed subtly, into one filled with dark promises. His expression seemed to say, _"Tempt me, I dare you."_ Sarah felt tingly and for several long moments, she couldn't look away, but finally she managed to pull her gaze back to her drink and take an unsteady sip.

What was she getting into? What did she _want _to get into?

The Egg Nog was warm and filling in the pit of her stomach. Soon her body would probably realize that it hadn't slept more than three hours this night and last night had been late because she'd stayed up with Jennifer watching cheesy, romantic comedies with Christmas themes. But for right now, she felt fully energized.

With the ham in the oven, Sarah decided to make a Christmas tradition for the Williams family: fruitcake. Their fruitcake was delicious; warm, gooey, full of flavors and spices, she looked forward to it every year. Jareth quickly procured the required ingredients for her and Sarah began assembling it. Usually, they would make fruitcake on Thanksgiving, letting it age until it had reached optimal deliciousness for Christmas day, then having it with a bit of whipped cream on top and a cup of Egg Nog. Well, Jareth had the magic, she had the know-how, and they had the Egg Nog.

Jareth was strangely quiet, watching her work. She added the fruits, the sugar, the butter and heated it over the stove. Jareth then followed her request and cooled the mixture back to room temperature with a lazy wave of his hand. She added the dry ingredients and was about to grab the ladle, she paused, remembering something. She said, "You have to help me stir."

"Oh?" He hesitated.

"Yeah, you can't just sit there and watch the _entire_ time," Sarah said, teasingly. "Besides, you should always stir fruitcake." She offered the top of the wooden ladle, and to her surprise, he obliged, reaching for it. At the last minute, she held the ladle back.

"Without your gloves," she said, smiling. Her devious side was laughing with glee—and lust—as she watched Jareth raise an eyebrow but indulge her, taking off his glove one finger at a time before finally tugging it off to reveal long-fingered, elegant hands. She shivered. Was it normal to find such a commonplace gesture so erotic? She could feel her body clenching with heat. She quickly looked into the pot, hoping he didn't notice her flushed face.

"May I ask why I must help you stir a concoction that currently looks like," Jareth leaned forward to peek into the pot, "something _very _unpleasant?"

"Tradition says that making a fruitcake grants happiness and good luck for the coming year, but in order to get the good luck, you have to stir it," Sarah said. "Usually, my whole family stirs the fruitcake together as a result."

Jareth had been reaching for the ladle, but he suddenly stopped and looked at her with surprise. "You'd wish for such things for me?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "What do you take me for? Of course I would, Jareth. No matter how hard it may be to believe," and she said this with sarcasm dripping from her voice, "I actually don't hate you. In fact, I hope that this New Year can bring a new understanding between us. I mean…" Here, she became flustered. _What do I actually wish when it comes to the Goblin King? _She thought, her gaze roving over his form. "I mean, I don't want to go back to the way it was before, when I didn't talk to anyone from the Underground," she finished, lamely.

_What a cop-out, _her devious side muttered.

_Shut up, _Sarah answered.

"Is that so?" Jareth asked, his voice so soft she could barely hear it. He was smiling with amusement and his eyes were twinkling with that same mirth that made him so utterly irresistible, but also proclaimed him as definitely the villainous character in any story. Sarah looked back at the pot again, her flush deepening. He really was too easy in his own skin; he _knew _he was sexy—he had to know! How could he not know?—and he must be aware of how he effected her. She wasn't sure she liked him having that power of him, but on the other hand, it was strangely exciting.

Jareth suddenly moved so that he was at her back and she could feel the warmth of him through her clothes to her skin. Goosebumps erupted along her arms and she shivered, hoping Jareth didn't notice. He reached around her so that he could grasp the top of the wooden ladle and rested his other hand on the counter. It was almost like she was in his arms. Almost.

_Oh boy, _Sarah's devious side thought, gleefully.

_Oh boy, _Sarah completely agreed, not sure if she was anxious or just as gleeful as the rest of her.

"Jareth," Sarah murmured.

"Yes, Precious?" Jareth said it softly, his breath warm against her neck as he leaned forward.

Sarah suddenly couldn't remember what she was going to say. "N—nothing…"

Sarah added the eggs, but her thoughts were no longer on the fruitcake. Well, they probably hadn't been for a while; she was cooking on automatic.

A part of her wondered why she could never be so deeply affected by a normal human male the way she was affected by Jareth. She'd had a few boyfriends, but she'd never felt the same intense attraction to them that she felt to Jareth—and just from being in close _proximity _to him.

_It's not Christmas anymore, but I think I may still have one Christmas wish, _Sarah thought, amused. She leaned back against Jareth and before she could stop herself, she sighed with contentment. It felt wonderful being so close to him, feeling the warmth of his body—and they weren't fighting, she wasn't trying to save her brother or remember her memories. She could fully enjoy this moment.

She and Jareth both mixed the eggs into the batter, but then Jareth leaned forward and took a deep breath just a few inches from her hair. She could feel the heat of his lips hovering near her ear.

He said, "You smell like cinnamon, Precious." Again, she felt his warm breath against her neck and this time she shivered.

_Oh hell…_ She thought and turned around in the circle of his arms. She had a moment to register the look of surprised pleasure and triumph in his eyes before she pressed her lips against his and wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her body flush against his.

His lips were soft. For a moment, the kiss was delicate and dreamy, just the barest brush of their lips, but Sarah was not satisfied with that. She pressed harder against him, rubbing her body against his teasingly as she opened her mouth and let the tip of her tongue trace his bottom lip.

Jareth growled, but it sounded more desperate than was usual for the great Goblin King. His hands traveled up Sarah's back, pausing to make shiver-inducing caresses along her spine and neck, before finally burying his hands in her hair. He used the grip to pull her closer and opened his mouth, deepening the kiss until she felt the silky slide of his tongue against hers. The slight tug of his fingers in her hair was driving her wild and she groaned against his mouth.

The sound seemed to undo him even further. Before Sarah even knew what was happening, he'd lifted her up onto the countertop. She pulled back to blink at him in surprise.

"Where's the fruitcake?" She should have been sitting on top of the pot, but it was gone.

"Oven," was all Jareth said.

It was very hard to concentrate on food-related issues, especially when Jareth leaned close and left a trail of hot, wet kisses along her jaw. Sarah tipped her head back, closing her eyes and managed to say, "325 degrees for—for one hour." Her voice sounded distant and husky.

Jareth chuckled, then murmured, "Done, but it may take longer than an hour…" He nipped her bared neck, then licked her skin just above her pounding pulse as if tasting her. Sarah groaned as the sensation nearly drove her out of her mind.

An hour, a night, the morning after…at this point, she wanted it all, every last minute.

She wrapped her legs around Jareth and pulled him closer to her until he had to lean his hands on top of the counter, on either side of her. He pressed his lips to hers and then gently tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth, teasingly.

He pulled back and his mismatched eyes gazed into hers. There was something fluttering in the vicinity of her heart, as if she had a bird in her chest that was trying to escape. Every time she looked into Jareth's eyes, that fluttering sensation became stronger. Now, coupled with the desire she felt, it made her nearly crazy.

She untucked Jareth's shirt and ran her hands underneath it and moaned when her hands made contact with the soft, hot skin of his chest. Jareth shivered and reciprocated by licking and sucking the skin just above the neckline of her camisole tank top while reaching underneath it to stroke the flesh of her belly.

She wanted him to touch higher and he was purposefully teasing her. She growled in frustration and she chuckled again, and then to her absolute delight, he began to undo the drawstring of her pants.

"I think these pants are quite ridiculous, Sarah, they have sheep on them," he murmured and his voice was husky with desire. It made her shiver listening to it and know _she _was the cause.

"Well, they definitely don't meet Goblin King fashion standards," Sarah said, grinning.

"Indeed, but ultimately, I find I don't care as much about them as what's _underneath_…"

_Underneath…_ Sarah thought, and then a horrific realization came to her: _she was wearing her long johns underneath the pajama pants._ She had a tendency to kick her blankets off her legs while she slept, bunching it around her shoulders, and in Jennifer's apartment it always got cold enough in the living room that she awoke feeling she had two blocks of ice for legs, so she'd begun to sleep with the bottom part of her long johns underneath her pants.

Long johns were not sexy. They weren't even near grandma underwear sexy—if grandma underwear could be sexy. Her long johns were especially unsexy; she had owned them since college, the color had faded from a cheery pastel yellow to some sort of yellowy-white, and it was frayed around the elastic band.

She did not want Jareth, the ultra sexy Goblin King (who probably wore silk boxers; only the best, after all), to see her long johns.

"Jareth," Sarah said, quickly, stilling his hands in hers. "Wait."

Jareth blinked, focusing on her face. He'd been pulling the drawstring loose so he could take off her pants, but now his hands stilled and he searched her face. Immediately, his own eyes became hooded and suspicious, and Sarah wanted to pound her head against the wall for breaking the mood.

_Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! _She thought, then waited expectantly.

_What do you want me to say? I agree completely: you're an idiot, _the devious part of her agreed. Sure, _now _she was in complete agreement.

"I—I just…I just want to go to the bathroom before…uh, before…" Sarah stammered, a blush spreading across her face. Oh, this was horrible and awkward and _embarrassing_, but if it meant she'd get a chance to take off her long johns and hide them, she'd do it. She'd rather Jareth thought she preferred to go commando than see her hideous underwear.

Jareth blinked, then grinned with amusement. "Of course, Precious."

He stepped back so Sarah could slide off the counter. She was a little dismayed; it would have definitely been sexy to continue in the kitchen. _Not very sanitary though, _she thought. She hoped she didn't have flour on her butt.

Jareth waved at a door that Sarah had assumed only exited out of the kitchen, but Jareth said, "If you go through that door, you'll find the bathroom."

"How is that possible? That looks like the exit."

"Ah, the Castle follows its king's bidding," Jareth said with a smile.

"Wait here, I won't be long," Sarah promised, and then nearly ran for the bathroom.

Behind her, she heard Jareth say, "I will be waiting, Precious."

When she wrenched the door open, she found herself in a mundane bathroom, the kind anyone would find Aboveground. There was a toilet, a shower, a counter with a sink, and a mirror. She leaned her hands on the sink to look at her reflection.

Her hair was mussed, her eyes were dreamy, and her lips were red from the kisses. She looked sexy, uninhibited, tempting. She'd never thought of herself as any of those three things before. She felt a heat in her abdomen when she recalled how Jareth had buried his hands in her hair, as if he could not get enough of touching her.

Quickly, Sarah undid her pajama bottoms and took off the long johns. She looked around, then carefully folded them and placed them on top of the toilet before putting her pants back on. With a deep breath, she opened the door and walked back into the kitchen—only to see Jareth's wardrobe had changed.

She blinked, surprised.

He now wore a deep blue, long sleeved shirt and black, leather pants. Around his shoulders was the owl feather cloak, which she had always loved. It contrasted well to the otherwise dark colors he wore. His hair fell around his face in its usual voluminous tendrils, but the tips were dyed blue. His black gloves were back on his hands, as well.

He looked up and met her gaze, giving her a wistful smile. "I have been summoned by a wisher."

Sarah blinked again. Her brain seemed to be slow—or maybe lust-logged, much like soil could be waterlogged—because it took her a few minutes to realize what Jareth was saying, then her heart pounded with disappointment and she said, "What? _Now?_"

Jareth sighed, nodding. "I must answer the summons. I am sorry, Precious, you have no idea how sorry." His eyes were still feverish-bright with desire and he swept his gaze over her, taking in every inch of her body, and Sarah shuddered. It was as intimate as a caress—Jareth knew how to give meaningful _looks_.

Sarah sighed, turning towards the ovens for a moment. What could she say? Even fairytales had rules, and one of the rules for the Underground was that the Goblin King answered those who wished people away. But, it was _horrible _timing.

_We just don't seem to be lucky, Jareth and I, _Sarah thought, her mouth turning down at the corners. _It's like our timing is always off._

_There's always later, _her devious side pointed out.

_True…later… _Sarah turned back, trying to smile. "I suppose I can't say anything except don't be _too _evil."

Jareth grinned and was about to turn around when Sarah walked up to him and grabbed his arm. He turned back to her, an eyebrow quirked inquisitively.

"I'll finish baking some more food while you're gone if you leave me flour, eggs, butter, sugar, um—"

Jareth stopped her by gently pressing his fingers to her lips. "I'll leave you with a full pantry. Just think of what ingredient you desire and open it and the item will be on the middle shelf."

"Nice trick."

"Not the one I wish I could do," Jareth murmured. He brushed his fingertips along Sarah's cheek and bent to give her a brief kiss, but in that slight brush of their lips, she felt his longing and desire—and underneath that, a loneliness that made her heart ache. When Jareth pulled back, he winced. "Damn summons, it gets painful if I ignore it. I must go, Precious. I am sorry."

"Hurry back," Sarah said, "or I'll never forgive you."

"I wouldn't want that, not after you finally forgave me for the last time we met!"

Jareth took her hand, kissing the back of it, and then he was gone leaving behind a light sprinkling of glitter that drifted to the ground at Sarah's feet.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Whew, is it hot in here or is it just me? LOL. Poor Sarah! This is ultimately the downfall of long johns, they are not sexy looking. They're _warm_ looking, though.

I'm rather proud of myself for finishing this chapter today, despite the fact that I spent the last many hours beta reading for two friends (one who neglected to mention her work-in-progress was 65 pages until AFTER I said "alright"!) and I think this chapter turned out very well. I'm sorry for any editing mistakes I missed, I tried my best, but if you point them out I'll fix them. :D

The fruitcake idea was given to me by **FaeriesMidwife**, who mentioned baking bread, and triggered my memory of an old English tradition about stirring the fruitcake. So, shout out for you, hun! :) There's also a tantalizing mention of whipped cream (a few of you said there had to be whipped cream somewhere XD), but there's going to be more of that in the future, I think... Don't worry, guys, I plan to incorporate more food items (your suggestions made me really hungry, by the way!) so **please keep them coming!** I am going to try and incorporate one food item from everyone who suggests stuff for the goblin feast, and as I promised, if your food suggestion is used then you **WILL** get a special shout-out from me in the chapter it is used!

**Please review! **All suggestions/comments/questions are welcome and replied to in some form, no matter the length. They really do motivate me -- heck, they motivated me this time to get the chapter out earlier then I thought, since I was thinking I'd take one extra day and upload chapter 7 tomorrow (my fingers have been typing to the bone, I say! XD), so reviews definitely help me get my butt into the chair and think of delicious, adult-type situations with Jareth (okay, I'd probably think that on my own...but still, reviews help to get them down on the screen :P). My plan is to have the NEXT chapter finished and uploaded tomorrow.

OK, the shout-outs will be brief this time, but I will make up for it next time! Promise!

**tichtich2: **Thank you for the wonderfully long review, I loved it! I don't mind suggestions at all, although I can't promise I will take all the suggestions I receive. Sarah DOES need to get Jareth a present, and I was planning on her getting him SOMEthing...not exactly sure what yet...

**Madame Dee: **Not to worry, Sarah's old friends WILL be making an appearance. In fact, Hoggle gets a mention in this chapter already. :)

**luna andie: **Of course Jareth has an inner voice! Somewhere, there's a sensible side of him that he usually ignores (after all, look at his wardrobe!). :P I think the sensible side may know a bit about what that feeling is, too. Hmm, do I sense an inner conversation coming? Hope you liked the adult-type touching!

**darkbangle: **Well, Sarah caved first, but can you blame her?! :D

**lanabyte: **LOL! Oh great, now you've got that image stuck in my head! Noooo! :D But I'm glad you're liking the story so far.

**Shadowxwolf:** I always love imagining Jareth call Sarah "Precious." It sounds so naughty and yet so sweet, too. :)

**Emily: **I updated! XD And yes, Sarah is a lucky lady...if only:

_(CQ scribbles in her pad. Jareth appears, trying to look over her shoulder. "What are you writing?" he asks, suspiciously._

_"Oh nothing, just a little scene where a certain author whose name begins with 'Cordite' and ends will 'Quill' steals you away from Sarah -- tight pants and all!"_

_Jareth glowers and says, "Nothing? NOTHING tra la la la la?! I will not let you degrade this story into some Mary Jane-esque fantasy!" He tosses a crystal at CQ's feet, where it explodes. CQ suddenly finds herself in an oubillette._

_"Hey! I never would really do it! I have integrity, I promise! See? Look, I'm ripping it up now!" CQ tears off the notepad page and rips it up. "Jareth? Jaaaaareth...?")_

Hehe, OK until next time my wonderful readers. Oh, and if you didn't get a shout-out above...check your email. :) Also, don't worry, all food suggestions have been written down, including who suggested what. I have quite the growing list -- and I'm loving it! :)

* * *

_The Fine Print: Don't own anything in regards to the Labyrinth, etc., etc. except my own original ideas and characters, etc., etc. You know the drill._


	8. Don’t Drink the Goblin Grog

**Chapter Eight: Don't Drink the Goblin Grog**

Sarah looked around the kitchen and sighed, running her hands through her hair. This was _not _how she planned to help the Goblin King. The huge kitchen was also unnervingly silent, she did not like being alone. But, she had promised and for some reason this seemed important to Jareth. If she wanted to be his friend—_or, _she added, before any part of her could protest, _more than friends_—she would help him. She'd given her word, anyway.

Sarah checked the oven to find the fruitcake was in a bread pan and everything, so she left it baking away and went to the pantry. Roast potatoes were easy enough to make, and she felt like doing something more manual like peeling potatoes until she had her mind—and body—under control. She still could feel tingles from where Jareth had kissed her.

She opened the pantry and found a bag of potatoes, fresh rosemary, and olive oil all on the middle shelf. Sarah grinned. Magic was so useful, if only it existed in the Aboveground.

She took the ingredients and placed them on a countertop, then begun washing the potatoes. She noticed that whenever she needed something, the kitchen seemed to anticipate it. A brush appeared next to the sink when she was looking away for a moment, and she used the brush to wash the potatoes. As she patted the potatoes dry, a peeler appeared on the counter behind her and she began peeling them in the sink.

Sarah was halfway through when she heard a pitter-patter noise, too quick to be the feet of children, and there weren't any clucking noises so it wasn't chickens. She looked down to see Jeebo, who gave a little wave in greeting before easily climbing up the counter to sit next to the sink.

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked, leaning forward to watch her peel. He took one of the potato peels and ate it.

"Peeling potatoes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm making roast potatoes."

"Why?"

"For the Christmas feast Jareth's planning."

"Why?"

Sarah smiled. She had a younger brother who used to do similar things and had learned long ago not to let the repetition of the "why?" game bother her. Eventually, Toby would get bored of asking "why?" over and over and stop on his own.

"Why what? Why is Jareth planning a feast or why am I helping him?" Sarah asked, finishing another potato. Jeebo reached for it and she moved it out of his arm's reach. "Eat the peels if you want, but don't you touch the potatoes, Jeebo, or I'll bog you myself."

Jeebo immediately diverted, reaching for a handful of peels and munching on them like they were potato chips. He said, "Kitchen smell good."

It did, it smelled like baking fruit, spices, and the roast ham. It was a smell of life and the only thing that was making the lonely, silent, hugeness of it tolerable. Sarah washed her hands under the water and said, "Yeah, it does."

"When food gonna be done?"

"Soon, I'm sure."

Sarah noticed other goblins were appearing, peeking around the large island or the counters. She looked up and saw goblins sitting on top of the cabinets. One was eating an apple. Frowning, she said, "Aren't you guys supposed to be wherever the wisher is? In fact, don't you guys _take _the person wished away?"

"Kingy needs to get there first, make sure everything safe, and make plan on how to appear to human. But, lots of goblins in Underground, he only need a few," Jeebo said. "It not our turn to go Aboveground. Plus, Kingy still made about how Priscilla thing."

"The chicken," Sarah said, remembering the story.

"Yeah. Not Priscilla's fault," Jeebo muttered. "He gave Priscilla to goblin, but I won her in poker game. Now she in Goblin City."

Sarah finished peeling the last potato and began cutting them into bite-sized pieces. She slapped away Jeebo's hand when he tried to snag another piece. Now, there were a cluster of goblins around the sink, picking out potato skins and stuffing them into their mouths, chewing loudly. Apparently, goblins were better than goats or garbage disposals, because in a minute all of the skins were gone and the sink looked pristine.

Sarah opened a cabinet near one of the ovens to find it empty except a glass baking dish in just the size and shape she wanted. For perhaps the thirtieth time, she decided cooking in a magical kitchen was awesome.

She grabbed the baking dish and put the potatoes in it, drizzled the rosemary and olive oil on top, and began mixing everything together. Meanwhile, the goblins had made tankards appear in their hands, filled to the prim with some kind of beer or ale or something, if the foamy head was any indication. They gulped at the stuff, licking at the foam mustaches that remained on their lips, and began getting giggly. As Sarah continued to cook—she finished a coconut and an apple pie, putting them in the oven and taking out the ham and fruitcake, which magically finished at the same time—she watched the goblins become tipsier and tipsier.

When Sarah had finished with the brussel sprouts and bacon side dish, a tradition in the Williams household, she sat down at the counter to watch the goblins. She couldn't help but grin as Jeebo leaned heavily against a goblin with a brown lunch bag for a hat. The Lunch Bag Hat goblin tried to push Jeebo away, but Jeebo just took another huge swig of his drink and said, giggling "Dance magic dance!"

Sarah raised her eyebrows.

Jeebo's words immediately got the goblins started and they started singing "Magic Dance" at the top of their lungs. Jeebo grabbed a tomato and held it out, saying, " 'Ish a crystal but shometimesh not."

Sarah giggled. "That's _just _like him, Jeebo."

Jeebo tried to look arrogantly at the tomato and said, "Bog! Bog for everybody!"

The small goblin with the huge, sad eyes—which suddenly reminded Sarah of the huge eyes on the Precious Moments figurines—licked the foam from the top of his tankard and said, "Kingy never bog Sarah."

"Never," the other goblins agreed.

"What's your name?" Sarah asked the huge-eyed goblin.

"Mort."

"Well, Mort, the King knows better than to bog me. He tried to do it once and it wasn't very successful."

"No, Kingy would never bog you again," another goblin said, almost as if he was chiding Sarah for not realizing it sooner. "He _likey-like _Sarah."

"Likey-like," many of the other goblins repeated, nodding. A few looked into their drinks thoughtfully, as if they could see the answers to their thoughts in the bottom of their tankards. Then most of them shrugged and took a few huge gulps.

"Kingy never been so excited 'bout nothin' since he learned about fireworks," Jeebo said, "and then Lady's back!"

Sarah looked away, uncomfortable suddenly. She didn't want to talk about her relationship—or lack thereof or whatever she had with the Goblin King—with the goblins, it was just too weird. So, instead, she pointed to Jeebo's drink and asked, "What's that stuff, anyway?"

"Grog," Jeebo said, grinning. "Goblin grog. So tasty!"

The other goblins nodded enthusiastically.

A goblin, wearing a rice bag with two holes punched out the bottom for his legs to slip through, offered Sarah his tankard and asked, "Wanna try?"

"Um…"

"Try! Try!" the goblins chanted.

"You like," Jeebo said, with confidence.

On one hand, Sarah wasn't too sure she should be sampling something entitled "goblin grog," but she was out of ideas on what to make and she wasn't entirely sure she should start wandering the castle, either. Last time that had happened, she'd found herself in the Escher Room and that place had been messed up—she still sometimes dreamed about running forwards, backwards, upside-down through doorways and stairways looking for something but never finding it.

Also, Jareth had left her hot and frustrated, and she wasn't entirely pleased with that, there wasn't any more Egg Nog left, and she could use a drink.

After a moment's hesitation, she took the tankard and looked into its depths. It looked thick and dark; thicker than Guinness, her usual drink of choice in her college days. After a moment, she took a small sip and gasped as the liquid burnt its way down her throat into her stomach like it had more alcohol than it really should have.

"Oh my god! It tastes _horrible!_" Sarah said, clapping a hand to her lips and shuddering.

"That cause you don't drink it right," Jeebo said with a sniff. "You gotta chug! Big gulp! Big!"

"Chug! Chug!" the goblins chanted.

_I can't believe this is happening to me, _Sarah thought, looking at the dozen or so goblins in the kitchen that were jumping around and chanting. _It's like that party I went to in college. Everything was "chug this" "eat that" "puke over there." Well, I plan to avoid the puking._

Sarah took a big gulp of the drink. Her eyes watered but she managed to swallow it all. "Oh god! It _still _tastes horrible!" It was thick, almost like a shake, and she imagined Draino or laundry detergent would have a similar taste.

However, it made her feel very warm…and kind of relaxed. Sarah pulled the stool that Jareth had been sitting in closer to her and ungracefully sat down. Actually, the aftertaste wasn't so bad. A moment ago, it had seemed horrible, but the second sip wasn't as bad as the first.

_Which, _she thought, grinning, _means the third sip will be even better._

She wasn't sure how the logic worked, but it made sense to her. So she took a third sip, and it _didn't _seem to taste that bad, but then again, she couldn't taste as much of anything. She hoped she wasn't burning off her taste buds or something.

She took a fourth sip before she even knew what she was doing.

Meanwhile, the goblins were swing dancing. The Lunch Bag Hat goblin had his arm interlocked with another goblin that had mud smeared over his face and they were going round and round while a few goblins watched, clapping. Jeebo was having an argument with a purple-skinned goblin with a huge wart on his nose.

"Priscilla not mean!" Jeebo said.

"Priscilla bit me!" the purple-skinned goblin answered.

"Priscilla bite mean people!"

"I not mean!"

"Priscilla is awesome chicken—you just jealous."

"You cheat at poker!"

Jeebo stared at the goblin with his mouth agap, unable to believe the goblin had just said that. Then he yelled, "You take that back!" He looked around, saw Mort, and grabbed the smaller goblin, easily hefting him up. Mort yelped, trying to wiggle free, but Jeebo simply yelled, "You take that back right now!" and threw Mort at the other goblin.

Mort crashed into the purple-skinned goblin and they went down, a pile of limbs and angry shouts. Usually, Sarah would have tried to break it up, but for some reason she found the spectacle hilarious.

She took another sip of the grog and started giggling to herself.

The goblins were going through the grog faster than she was. There were empty tankards on the countertops, and whenever a goblin finished his drink, he'd simply make a new one appear. Two goblins were leaning against each other for support, waving their tankards around and splashing grog everywhere.

"_Standing right there in front of me_," the goblins began singing, swinging their tankards and splashing each other with grog, "_was a little goblin waitin' an—an—an-shush-lee_—"

"_Pacin' around like little goblins do!_" Jeebo sang, off-key, making Sarah's ears buzz in protest. The purple-skinned goblin managed to untangle himself from Mort and grabbed Jeebo's ankle. Jeebo tripped, dropping his grog.

"My grog!" Jeebo said.

"Serves you right!"

"_And in his hands he held a pair o'shoes_," the goblins continued to sing.

Sarah grinned, clapping her hands in time with the music, and then took another sip of grog.

After that, things started to get a little fuzzy…

* * *

**Author's Notes:** OK, I know, the Sarah-gets-drunk-on-goblin-ale-or-whatever has been done, and probably done better than me, but I just couldn't help myself. *sheepish grin* My logic is that everything's probably been done anyway, so why not sit back and have some fun? ...Just don't drink the grog, the last sip is a real doozy! XD

I'm beginning to realize that this story is becoming much longer than I initially anticipated. I initially outlined for 5 chapters, but I've added some extra scenes -- like this one and the next chapter. I don't think that's a BAD thing, in fact I'm still having fun with this fanfic and I hope you all are too, faithful readers! As long as we're having fun, why not continue? I'm thinking now that there's going to be 13 chapters total (how fitting! And I didn't mean it that way at all!).

This chapter is dedicated to **Cybernetic Mango** and **Shadowxwolf**, who provided the food ideas:

**Cybernetic Mango**, who mentioned roast meat (well, there's ham) and potatoes, so here's the potatoes! I actually make the same recipe that Sarah does and call it "Super Delicious and Easy Rosemary Potatoes." Mmm, goes good as a side dish.

**Shadowxwolf**, who came up with brussel sprouts and bacon -- and yes, as per your suggestion Jareth will be trying it later. I, personally, never had brussel sprouts with bacon. My family was big on liking vegetables for vegetables' sake, so I actually like my brussel sprouts plain, or with a little butter. Mmmm, so tasty...I'm making myself hungry again, darn it...

Thank you guys for your suggestions! **Please review**, tell me what you think of this chapter (was it boring? Did you groan when you realized it's a Sarah-gets-drunk chapter? Did you giggle at the goblins?) or...or...I'll make Jeebo Sarah's new love interest! Yeah!

_("Jeebo, I never noticed this before, but you have very nice...um...eyes? Warty skin? Yeah," Sarah says, unconvincingly._

_Jeebo tries to steal some of the rosemary potatoes. "Tasty. Wanna play poker?"_

_"No, I don't want to play poker," Sarah says, leaning forward with her lips pursed and --_

_Cordite Quill suddenly appears, blocking the view. "No! Stop! I can't do it! Think of the children!"_

_"Um, you're the one making the threat," Sarah says, dryly.)_

Also, here's an **interesting tidbit** for you guys: the song that the goblins are singing is based on an actual Christmas song (granted, it doesn't mention goblins, but it does mention shoes...and it's actually a really sad song...).

I shall finish up these already long notes (forgive me! I guess I'm a chatty person!) with some shout-outs:

**Ayjah:** I have a "bad" habit of bringing stuff back, like the long johns. ;) I actually knew from the get-go that the long johns would play a pivotal role. LOL.

**Cybernetic Mango:** I'm not even sure how Jareth would react to cuff links. :D As for chocolate, whipped cream, and cherries...oh there's gonna be plenty of whipped cream, at least.

**FaeriesMidwife:** LOL! Well, Donkey was an awesome character, so it's all good. And look! I even managed to post another chapter today (late, though...whoops). Glad you liked the adult-type touching. I really skirted the rating, yeesh, so difficult to stay "good" instead of going fully "naughty."

**luna andie:** Curse those long johns! I'm actually a big fan of those kinds of awkward moments in love scenes. Does that make me weird? :D

**MyraValhallah:** It's really interesting the different foods I've been suggested, and all the traditions that go along with them. I'm having a lot of fun hearing them. Christmas pudding MIX? Is that like pudding type pudding? I know that in the UK pudding also means "dessert," so sometimes it gets a bit confusing for this American. XD It is an apt tradition. I think there's going to be more wishes in the future, and Jareth and Sarah may have a few missed moments, too. As you said, it's typical for them.

**Dancing_Nancies41:** I know, what can I say? I'm evil. It's probably why Jareth's character appeals to me. I actually live in the same state than you, but I've also lived in cold climate states and like to drive to higher regions that actually get snow in our otherwise sunny-all-year-round state, so I have a pair of long johns tucked away...just in case. Although mine are not special enough to be any color other than white, unlike Sarah's.

**Lumissne: **No! Not the cranky chickens! Look, look, I updated! See? :D

**ChilaliSnowbird: **That is rather generous of his Glitteryness (that made me LOL, I might use that somewhere...), so in honor of that:

_(*from the depths of a dark oubilette, all that can be heard is the steady _clack-clack-clack_ of keyboard typing. CQ is in a corner with her laptop illuminating her face. She pauses in her typing to munch on a slice of fruitcake, then goes back to the laptop*_

_"Day 3549 -- or whatever, it's kinda hard to tell since it's an oubilette and all. I have been left here by his Royal Nibs and told that I must not deviate from the story arc and if I ever make threats of Mary Jane-ness again, I might be suspended from the Bog while having to listen to the goblins go through all the lyrics of "the 12 Days of Christmas" -- twice. And they tend to forget around the 8th day and start making things up. *shudder* It ain't easy writing for the Labyrinth. Jareth can be so cruel...I kinda like it.")_

LOL, OK, enough silliness. See you all next time!

* * *

_The Fine Print...is the same as last time. I'm feeling lazy. If you really want to know, check out the previous chapters._


	9. It Isn't Easy Being the Goblin King

**Chapter Nine: It Isn't Easy Being the Goblin King**

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and said, slowly, "There's no cellphone reception in the Underground. You're wasting your 13 hours."

The young girl, who, coincidentally, had turned 13 only a month ago, had ignored the Goblin King the first time he had said it. Instead, she'd merely waved the glittery cellphone around more desperately, as if the motion itself would somehow magically make it work. Having watched the display, Jareth had an urge to grab the cotton candy pink electronic device and hurl it into the distance. When the rhinestones glued onto the case caught the sun, it was nearly blinding, only increasing the Goblin King's annoyance.

The girl—Tabitha was her name—turned towards him with a look of horror on her face. "What are you talking about? There's cellphone reception _everywhere_."

Jareth sighed. "You are in the _Underground_. You will find that electricity is sporadic at best, and entirely dependent on my whim. There are no telephone towers or any of that nonsense here."

Tabitha was still looking at him with wide-eyed horror. "What kind of place is this?"

"_This_, little girl," Jareth said, his voice a near growl as he held onto his patience by his proverbial fingertips, "is where all fantasies, fairytales, and fears come true. Where dreams are within your reach—and nightmares are around every corner. You, in your foolishness, have invoked an ancient game and unless you win, you will never see your friend, Molly, again."

By the way Tabitha was looking at him, her face paling and her hands trembling as they gripped the cellphone close, he supposed he'd lost some of his glamour and let a bit of his Otherworldliness seep through. It wasn't a major change in appearance, however there were _subtle _changes that when viewed together made him seem daunting and definitely not human. His eyes were perhaps the most frightening for mortals; they became glittery with power, as if sparks of electricity fired within their depths, and they resonated with the centuries Jareth had lived. His eyes were the eyes of an immortal, magical being.

Jareth didn't like to show that side of him to humans, and definitely not to a 13 year old girl. With some effort, he tried to control his temper. After taking a deep breath, he extended his hand and a crystal appeared, perched on his fingertips. He idly juggled it, letting it move from palm to the back of his hand, down his arm, and back again. The motion came from his magic and his will. He grinned with satisfaction when Tabitha's eyes focused on the crystal, hypnotically watching it glide along Jareth's arm.

"Shall we start over?" Jareth said. "You wished away your friend, Molly, and if you ever want to see her again, you must complete my Labyrinth in 13 hours." As always, a clock appeared behind Jareth, ticking down the time. "If you fail, Molly will stay here forever."

Tabitha looked away from the crystal and to Jareth's consternation, she shrugged. Eyeing her nails—which were painted a bright fuchsia with little butterfly-shaped jewels glued to each one—she said, "Let me get this straight: if I, like, go through this Labyrinth, you'll give Molly back to me, but I have to do it in 13 hours?"

"Correct."

"And if I don't complete it—what then? Molly, like, stays here? What about me?"

"You will go back to your world with the knowledge that you doomed Molly to an eternity of loneliness."

"But," Tabitha said, slowly, "I wished Molly away _because _I, like, never wanted to see her again. Why in the hell would I try to get her back?"

Jareth grit his teeth. Great, this was going to be a difficult one, and the rules stated that each wisher received 13 hours, he couldn't change that. If he could have his way, he'd send Tabitha back and turn Molly into a goblin—it was of little consequence to him—and then go back to Sarah.

He said, through his clenched teeth, "I don't care. You invoked the game, the rules state you receive 13 hours and you can't stay here for all of it. I suggest you play your part and then we can all go home."

"You mean I have to do this stupid 'game' even if I don't want to? That, like, _totally _doesn't seem fair!"

Ah, that word again. Jareth detested it, and yet it was so often quoted to him. The Labyrinth wasn't fair, the game wasn't fair, taking the one wished away wasn't fair—he wasn't fair. He often wondered what all these wishers were using as their basis for comparison; what universal book did they all read which stated what was fair and what wasn't?

"Trust me, if I could just send you back, I would. I have better things to do right now," Jareth said. Like get back to Sarah and see if where they had been heading had really been where he hoped they had been heading.

"Whatever," Tabitha said, slipping her cellphone into a pocket of her cargo pants. She wore a pink tanktop that was a size too small, showing off an unsavory amount of midriff. Her makeup was rather thick, as well, for a young girl.

Jareth said, despite himself, "Why did you wish away your friend, then? If you simply disliked her, it would be so easy to do something else besides wishing her to the goblins—like simply never speaking to her again."

"I didn't think that book was, like, _real_. I thought it was just a fairytale. Besides, I was angry! She didn't invite me to her birthday party!"

"So?" Jareth would have loved not being invited to every goblin's birthday party—in fact, he often wished he wasn't invited to his _own _birthday party. Parties in the Underground usually involved too many chickens, random fires, awful messes, and chaos on a grand scale. He still hadn't figured out how the goblins had set his _cake _accidently on fire for his last birthday. He'd banned candles on the cake many years before because he had grown weary of any fire hazards around his goblins.

The lack of all that chaos was one reason he was excited about the Christmas party. The notion of Christmas, a party that had nothing to do with birthdays and goblin grog and chickens and everything else that seemed inevitable in the Underground, seemed like a wonderful novelty.

"So, we're _supposed _to be best friends!" Tabitha said. "And she didn't invite me to her _birthday party_!"

"What is so wonderful about this girl's birthday party?"

"Nothing!" Tabitha snapped, looking away angrily. She muttered, so quietly that Jareth almost didn't hear, "Her mother plans these great arts and crafts things, and then all the girls bake the birthday cake with her. Then her Dad takes all of us somewhere—last year was the ice rink. My Mom can't even cook, she always buys my cake from some gourmet bakery, and my Dad usually is away for my birthday." Tabitha blinked, as if she realized what she'd just said, and then quickly added, "I couldn't believe I wasn't invited!"

Jareth held the crystal towards Tabitha. "Molly didn't have a party this year—"

"She invited Carol over. They watched movies!" Tabitha ignored the crystal.

"Fine, you are uninterested in your friend. Well, then, take your dreams."

"What?"

Jareth sighed. "This is really quite simple—a standard temptation ploy. Leave Molly here and take your dreams." He gazed into the crystal to see what Tabitha desired, and to his disappointment all he saw was materialistic things, but he said his lines anyway. "If you look into this crystal, it will show you your dreams."

Tabitha looked into the crystal and her eyes widened, the desire for what she saw was clearly there, however after a moment she took a step back and looked at Jareth suspiciously. "And what do you, like, _want_?"

"What?" Jareth blinked, the crystal momentarily forgotten.

"You know. It's kinda weird stealing kids and offering stuff in crystals. And that outfit," Tabitha said, wrinkling her nose as she regarded Jareth.

Jareth grit his teeth and straightened his shoulders. He was wearing his black armor, gray breeches, and the knee-high riding boots with metallic buckles along the sides. He was dressed excellently; intimidating in both style and regality.

"It's definitely kinda weird," Tabitha repeated. "You're not one of those _funny _guys—are ya?"

Jareth sputtered, his anger boiling over, and he snapped, "I think this conversation is simply useless. Perhaps if you spent your 13 hours in an oubliette, you will become less…talkative!"

Jareth threw the crystal at Tabitha and before it reached the girl—who cried out and took a step back instinctively—the crystal shattered and a whirlwind of glitter came from its depths, swirling around the girl like a mini-sandstorm of shiny particles. The glitter obscured her from view and when it finally settled to the ground, Tabitha was gone.

Jareth regarded the spot the girl had been standing for a moment, then sighed and conjured another crystal. Looking into its depths, he could see the girl whirling around in alarm as she found herself in one of the dark (and soundproof) oubliettes located in his kingdom.

He'd lost his temper again, which wasn't professional. Sending the wishers to an oubliette wasn't supposed to happen until _after _they had started the game and made some headway—oubliettes were a handy way of discouraging people, after all.

"If," Jareth said to the crystal, knowing that Tabitha would hear his voice, "you decide to change your mind and seek your friend, perhaps I will be extraordinarily generous and allow you to escape. You'll start from the beginning, of course, but it's better than truly being forgotten, no?"

"You're a son of a—!"

Jareth flicked his hand and the crystal disappeared, cutting Tabitha off. Really, what were people teaching their children nowadays that they learned such foul language?

Jareth sighed and stretched, then transformed into a snowy white barn owl and took to the skies. The wind ruffling his feathers was a delightful sensation and went a long way to alleviating the bad mood Tabitha had put him in.

_Really, I cannot believe she would insinuate… _Jareth couldn't even finish the thought.

Perhaps there had been a time when Jareth approached every wisher with anticipation, wondering what type of person could wish away a loved one, wondering what their dreams were—after all, part of the Labyrinth's challenge was that the wisher must learn themselves and their dreams, so Jareth had to know them, too. However, after a while, Jareth quickly realized that the people who usually wished others away were selfish, arrogant, prideful, spoiled, or some combination of all of the above.

There had been a few exceptions. There had even been people who had gained back their wished away loved one. Sarah had been an exception, not because she was particularly _different _from any of the other winners and not because she had been a selfless, wonderful example of humanity—in fact, she'd been immature, naïve, and spoiled when he had first met her, as many teenaged humans tended to be—but because her imagination had been rich and colorful.

That was one thing the Goblin King had been noticing as the modern era grinded along: people's imaginations were getting abysmally disappointing. Too often, a wisher's dreamscape seemed to be fashioned after some sort of television show or movie (and the wisher always liked to exclaim loudly, "Wait, isn't this…? I love this show!") and Jareth would wonder how they had even found the red book. And their desires and dreams were always so pathetically materialistic. It was _boring_.

The red book was the thing that facilitated the game. Scattered around the Aboveground, in different continents and countries, were copies of the red book. It not only provided a good story, but also gave a person the proper words to say in order to wish away someone. If the person lost, unable to get to the Castle Beyond the Goblin City within the 13 allotted hours, the wisher would be sent back, and the loved one would usually change into a goblin, whether they wanted to or not. Memories would be erased: the unlucky person who had been wished away would forget where they had come from and even their human form once they had been changed into a goblin. The world would forget about the person, as well; the only one who remembered would be the wisher, tormented by failure and regret, and stuck in a world that didn't believe.

No one had ever said the Goblin King was _nice. _And he took his duties seriously.

Except he'd lapsed twice with Sarah, losing sight of his professionalism, something he wasn't proud to admit even to himself. There weren't _supposed _to be feelings in the Goblin King when it came to the wisher or those wished away. The game was a job first and foremost: the red book kept belief in the human world, essential for magical creatures. The game was also a way for Jareth to combat the boredom that was inevitable when faced with eternity.

But, he found himself faced with a girl who was courageous, imaginative, and compassionate, but still, ultimately, naïve and spoiled. It frustrated him to hear her say "It's not fair!" so often; having her taunt him when she was so obviously in no position to taunt frustrated him. He didn't respond very well to it, he remembered that with some embarrassment.

And then there'd been the ballroom dance. That had not been a good idea. He knew he had to take something from her mind for the peach dream, something that would tempt her, and he enjoyed how colorful and imaginative her mind had been. Finally, he settled on the ballroom—all girls could be tempted by a prince who would dance with them, right? Except he _enjoyed _it. He enjoyed watching her walk across the room looking for him. He enjoyed stepping out from amongst the dancers and seeing her eyes widen. He enjoyed the way she had swept her gaze over his clothes (another impeccable wardrobe choice on his part) and hesitated before allowing him to sweep her away in a dance.

He enjoyed dancing and singing to her.

He had found himself half-wishing and half-dreading that Sarah _would _forget about her brother and stay. But, of course she didn't, she was surprisingly well-suited to the role of heroine, and he was left behind (in his more honest moments, he had to admit he was impressed by her fortitude, and how she had so completely smashed the ballroom dream…with a chair, no less). For the first time, he didn't quite like the feeling.

And then, the final temptation, the crystal of one's dreams, where Jareth usually offered power or wealth or romance, but this time, he offered Sarah _himself_. He still shuddered when he remembered his words: _"Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."_

Slave? _Slave? _Jareth the Goblin King was no one's slave!

But, she'd rejected him and although that had been surprisingly painful, he'd decided it was for the best. He'd gotten on with his life, although sometimes he did remember that ballroom dance where, just for a moment, it seemed like the world was falling down, just like he'd sung.

_But she did call you again, _the sensible part of him whispered in his mind. _She called _for_ you._

_Ten years later, when she felt her life was boring and, oh, why not call back the Goblin King? _Jareth thought, with bitterness.

_But, there was the kissing, _the sensible part of his mind pointed out, and here Jareth was stumped, for there had been delicious kissing—and touching, too—and he had the distinct feeling that if things hadn't been interrupted, they may have been able to proceed into territory that Jareth had occasionally fantasized about but never thought he'd see.

Jareth was a little unsure of whether he wanted to go any further with Sarah.

_You seemed very eager earlier, _the sensible part of his mind pointed out.

Jareth flapped his wings and sighed. In owl form, the sigh sounded like a soft _hoo-hoo_ noise.

_Of course! I may be wonderful, insightful, sensitive, and charismatic—but I'm not made of stone! Even if I was…a golem would have responded to Sarah, _Jareth thought.

_And now you're hesitating?_

_Where will this lead? _Jareth countered. _Spending this time with her is…difficult for me, for my emotions. I'm already getting…attached. If I stay around her, I may not be able to let her go, and then when she does go back home—as she will—it may very well break my heart. I'd rather avoid that. A broken-hearted Goblin King would be a pitiful sight, indeed._

_Why not risk it? Why not allow yourself to become closer? _The sensible part of him argued. _Perhaps she will surprise you._

Jareth doubted it. Sarah had rejected his offer once, why not again?

Ahead of him, the Castle Beyond the Goblin City rose up from the ground, intimidating and regal. He flew around one tower and curved towards the central tower, where a giant balcony with marble railings and mosaic tiles was. Here, he landed, changing from owl to man in the blink of an eye. The transformation was such second nature to him that he didn't even pause, going from the flap of his wings to the next step on two legs, with ease. He opened the door to his bedroom and smiled when he saw it was goblin-free. The little creatures usually knew better than to intrude on this sanctuary of his—_usually_.

He passed by a giant mirror with an exquisitely carved frame and paused to regard his reflection. In his time there had been many women who had claimed he had stolen their hearts. In fact, in now long forgotten times when the fair folk had been commonplace and things like magic were taken for granted, maidens had often whispered his name and hoped he would appear to woo them.

So why had Sarah refused? And why did that irk him so? And why didn't he have more confidence? What was it about Sarah that made him feel like a young boy experiencing his first romance?

Jareth couldn't deny that she had a strange affect on him. He couldn't seem to stop thinking of her, and whenever he did think of her, there was that strange fluttering feeling—which had traveled from his stomach and settled in his chest. It was odd, he'd managed to mostly keep Sarah out of his mind for the past ten years, but the moment he had heard her wish—which had tickled across his mind like a caress—he had immediately gone to her. Why?

"Because it was something to do," Jareth said to his reflection, thoughtfully, "after all, being Goblin King can be very boring."

_Of course, I'm sure that's all it was, _the sensible part said. Jareth was really beginning to hate that part of him. _Or maybe you're in love with Sarah Williams._

Jareth froze and his eyes widened. His reflection suddenly looked distressed and pale.

Love? _Love _tra la la?

Impossible.

"I am not in love with Sarah Williams," he said, enunciating each word. "She is merely an intriguing woman who, unlike many other wishers, is worthy of my respect—"

_Because you love her—_

"_No, _because she has an interesting imagination—she _believes, _which most people do not do. That's all!" Jareth said.

_Well, if you insist that's all it is, _the sensible part said, dryly, _then why aren't you back in the kitchen already where she's no doubt waiting for you? Maybe even hoping to continue what was interrupted before. You remember _before_, right, old boy?_

Jareth scowled. "I _was _going to rejoin her. I just needed to check my appearance." He leaned closer to the mirror and after a moment's thought, clicked his fingers. Instantly, his clothes had changed. Now, he wore a shirt that was such a dark blue it looked almost black. It hugged his body, showing off the musculature of his broad back and upper arms, but was open in the front in a V, sweeping down to nearly his stomach. His horned pendant was visible. Along with the shirt, he wore light gray breeches and the knee-high riding boots. His hair was shorter in the back, with long tendrils in the front, and streaked with black.

It was an intense look, it showed off a Goblin King that was intimidating and tempting. Jareth grinned.

_Yes, you don't love her. How could I have ever thought otherwise? _The sensible part of him muttered.

"Shut up," Jareth said, cheerfully. Remembering the feel of Sarah's soft skin and the taste of her lips—she had tasted like peaches—suddenly put him in a much better mood. "Just don't try and mess this up for me, old boy, with the talk of the 'L' word—or I may never forgive you."

Luckily, his mind didn't try to interject with any smart remarks, so Jareth took that as a good sign. He spun on his heel and held out his hand. A crystal appeared in his palm and flared once before disappearing, immediately teleporting Jareth back to the kitchen…and found it empty.

He frowned. Well, there were delicious baked items left out on the counters, cooling. He looked over the food and most of it looked delicious and thoroughly edible...but there was one item that caused him to pause, puzzled. In a bowl were little green circular bits that he assumed were vegetables, and they seemed to be sprinkled with bacon. Jareth wasn't sure he wanted to eat anything that was round and green. After a moment, he picked one up and sniffed it, then glancing around to make sure no one saw, he popped it into his mouth. A Goblin King, after all, wasn't afraid of anything.

After a few moments of chewing, he murmured, "Not bad, even if it's round and an unpleasant shade of green. Bacon...I like bacon."

He looked around again and noticed there was also a disturbing amount of mess. Cooking utensils were tossed on the floor, chicken feathers rested on almost every surface, and, most disturbingly, there were quite a few empty flagons. Well, at least nothing was on fire, and the food looked untouched—very surprising. However, the amount of chicken feathers was a cause for alarm.

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, "If those imbeciles have been at the goblin grog again, I may bog them all for the _second _time today. Or send them to an oubliette. Yes, maybe the one little Tabitha is in."

Jareth grinned, thinking about what an oubliette full of drunken goblins would be like, but then his smile faded when he realized the kitchen was painfully empty of not only goblins (drunken or otherwise), but Sarah too. Dread began to fill his stomach, sour as if he had drank bog water.

With a sigh, he extended his hand and a crystal appeared there. He peered into it, looking for his missing guest, and when he found her he groaned and closed his eyes.

_Oh no, _the sensible part of him thought—and for once, Jareth was in total agreement.

He tossed the crystal up and as it disappeared, he teleported— into the middle of chaos and pandemonium.

Jareth ducked, just in time to avoid getting smacked in the face by Mort, who had been tossed by a very inebriated goblin, who was trying to…country dance?

Jareth looked around the Escher Room, his disbelief and frustration mounting as he saw half a dozen goblins riding on the backs of chickens up and down the stairways, yelling, "Hi ho Silver! Away!" at the top of their lungs. He jumped out of the way as they came barreling down a staircase, despite the fact that a moment ago they had been going up a staircase, upside down. Mort had landed safely and was now dangling his legs off the edge, where he began singing "On the Good Ship Lollipop" in his high-pitched voice:

"Lemonade stands everywhere…"

Jareth turned away and saw half a dozen goblins—one of which included Jeebo—with linked arms trying to Riverdance. They were on a staircase, each goblin one step above the other, and oddly enough the alcohol seemed to be making them more graceful, for they were actually going through the complicated steps. At the bottom, Sarah watched, giggling and clapping her hands.

Jareth felt his heart flutter, but then he noticed her disheveled hair, her flushed face, and the silly grin and his heart sank. Between one step and the next, Jareth easily teleported to where she stood. He lightly touched her shoulder.

"Sarah?"

Sarah turned around and her smile widened. "Jareth!" she said, her voice slurred.

Jareth slowly closed his eyes. "You've drank the grog."

"It was _horrible_," Sarah said, giggling. "Least 'til the fourth sip. Or was it the eighth?" Sarah frowned, then shrugged.

"Happy landing on a chocolate bar!" Mort sang.

Jeebo spotted the King and stopped dancing in order to jump gleefully down the stairs and grab his monarch's hand. "Kingy back!" he said. "Was wisher fun?"

"The wisher was _not _any fun," Jareth said through clenched teeth. He pointed to Sarah. "How could you let her drink the goblin grog? Don't you remember what happened when you let _me _drink the goblin grog? Of all the imbecilic things to do!"

Jeebo hiccupped. "But we wanted to give Lady something tasty since she made so many tasty treats for party!"

"Yeah," the other goblins agreed, nodding enthusiastically, before returning to whatever mayhem they were doing.

"If you eat too much, ooh ooh," Mort continued to sing, "You'll awake with a tummy ache!"

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose before saying, "And the best you could come up with was _goblin grog?_" He sighed. "And how did the chickens molt so many feathers in the kitchen anyway? I simply do not understand how the chickens can lose so many feathers and still have any remaining!"

"But Kingy—"

"Jeebo, _don't _call me 'Kingy'!"

"But Kingy," Jeebo continued, as if Jareth hadn't interrupted. Jareth wondered if he the bog would teach Jeebo anything, but then again, it sometimes seemed like the goblins _enjoyed _the occasional bogging. Maybe he needed to find a new form of punishment? "We made a dance for you for when you got back!"

"Oh yes, you shoul' see it, Jareth," Sarah said. "It's really good."

Jeebo, and the other goblins on the staircase, beamed at the compliment and, before Jareth could protest, they clustered together. Then, they began doing a silly looking dance that seemed to involve waving their arms willy-nilly while jumping from one foot to the next.

"What," Jareth said, slowly, "is _that_?"

"Is our feelings through in-in-interpretive dance," Jeebo said, stumbling over the words. "See? This means we excited about party."

The goblins moved into a line and all of them began to rub their bellies, some of which were rather convex in shape, and make chewing motions.

"And this means we wanna eat _lots _of good food!" Jeebo said.

The goblins began jumping around on their toes in little zigzag patterns. Every so often, they would stop and begin hugging each other. Jeebo said, "And this means we like being goblins!"

Suddenly, the goblins curled their arms until their hands were jammed under their armpits like "wings," which they began flapping while shimmying to and fro. Jeebo said, "And this—"

"Is the chicken dance," Jareth finished for him. "I could surmise that one."

"Chicken!" one of the goblins yelled as he flapped.

"_Cluck cluck!_" Another said. "I'm Priscilla!"

"And dream away," Mort sang, his voice raising and warbling, "on the good ship lollipop!"

He paused, bowing to an imaginary crowd, and then began to sing "Gettin' Jiggy Wit' It." Jareth stared at the small goblin in abject horror, but before he could kick Mort into the bog, Sarah clapped her hands and giggled.

"I haven't heard this song in _forever_!" she said. She began dancing, as well, except her dance involved a lot of hip swaying and for a moment Jareth forgot his train of thought as he watched.

Then he blinked and said, "Perhaps we should move somewhere more hospitable, Precious?"

"I'm fine here," Sarah said. "Can you believe that I used to hate this room?"

She didn't say anything more, so after a moment, Jareth said, while trying to sound nonchalant, "Oh?"

Sarah blinked. "Oh?" She asked.

"What do you mean about disliking this room?"

Sarah thought. "Did I?" She frowned. "Oh yes, I did! I disliked it a _lot_—a lot a lot." For some reason, she found this funny and giggled again. Despite the fact that Jareth liked Sarah sober much more, he had to admit she had a surprisingly cute giggle. "I used-ta dream about the Esch-Esch—er, this room. Was always running, but didn' know from what. Would go up and down stairs, backwards and forwards, upside down, all sorts of ways, but could never find the way out."

Her expression grew serious and she said, "Never could find Hoggle or Ludo or Didymus. Never could find you, too. Where were you, Jareth?"

"Soon as you called, love, I appeared," Jareth said, gently, his heart beating fast. He took a step forward.

"Yeah, you did." Sarah smiled. Her gaze wandered and for a moment she watched the chicken-racing goblins. When Jareth touched her shoulder again, she jumped, then blinked and said, "You're pretty."

Jareth grinned. "I know."

Sarah tilted her head and sighed. "_So _not fair."

Jareth's grin widened. He drew Sarah into his arms and a crystal appeared in his hand. Sarah made an appreciative sound and touched the orb. Jareth moved it away and it flared, teleporting them to his suite.

"Ooh!" Sarah said, looking around with wide eyes. "Nice!"

"I would hope so, these are my rooms," Jareth said.

"Where's the bed?"

Jareth blinked. He regarded the crystal as if it was the most important thing in the room and tried to sound nonchalant again as he said, "What do you mean?"

"Where's the bed?" Sarah repeated. She flopped down on the sofa. "I'm _so _tired. Been cooking all night, you know, just like that book I loved when I was a kid. _In the Night Kitchen_."

"I know, and I'm grateful," Jareth said, trying to hide his disappointment at her answer—at this whole situation.

"But I couldn't make _everything_," Sarah continued, with a sigh. She leaned back until her head was propped by the back of the sofa and she was staring at the ceiling.

"I'm sure it will be fine. I'm sure I'll figure out the rest," Jareth answered, sitting next to her. He sighed. "You know, this is _not _how I envisioned the remainder of our time together, especially after the quite _enjoyable _moments before we had to part."

Sarah nodded. "That was fun."

Jareth frowned. Just "fun"? He considered kissing Sarah again, until she was able to describe the experience more fully—or perhaps until she was unable to talk at all—when she suddenly sighed and leaned against him, curling her body against his side.

She idly ran her hands along Jareth's skin, starting from his jaw down his neck and across his chest, following the V-shaped opening of his shirt. Her touch was feather-light and caused shivers to run along his spine.

Jareth's breath quickened and he thought, _Best wardrobe choice ever._

Sarah's fingers curled around the pendant and she lifted it, regarding it thoughtfully. "Pretty," she said.

Jareth gently pulled the pendant from her fingers and said, with amusement, "Careful, Precious. This pendant isn't _just _for looks."

"Isn't it?"

"No, it isn't. I've had it all my life, and it holds a significant amount of power. It's a symbol of the Goblin King."

Sarah looked at it thoughtfully. "Not just a necklace, huh? Figures. Nothing is ever what it seems in the Underground." She paused, and then to Jareth's surprise she leaned her head on his shoulder and snuggled against him. Hesitantly, Jareth wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. He half-expected her to move away from the gesture, but instead Sarah sighed softly.

Jareth's heart was strangely heavy, as if it had grown more, or was filled with more than just blood and tissue.

Sarah murmured, "I'm glad that the Underground is more than it seems. It would be boring otherwise." She took a deep breath and added, "You smell like…like rain and wind and earth. I like it."

Jareth leaned his cheek against the top of her head and ran her long, silky black hair through his fingers. "Funny, I was thinking earlier how you smell and taste like peaches, Precious."

Sarah smiled, then closed her eyes and murmured, "I'm _so _tired…"

"Shame," Jareth murmured, leaning close until his lips brushed Sarah's ear. She shivered, and her reaction caused him to grin with delight. "I was thinking about earlier—about continuing where we left off. What do you think?"

"Mmm," Sarah murmured, half asleep. "Ask me in the morning."

A moment later, Sarah's breathing evened out; she was fast asleep. Jareth leaned back, shifting slightly into a more comfortable position but keeping Sarah pressed against him, with one arm around her. He looked down, his gaze wandering over her face, knowing that this opportunity was special. Her lips were slightly parted, her cheeks were still flushed, and her eyelashes were dark against her cheek. He gently brushed stray strands of hair off her forehead and kissed the top of her head.

"This is not how I envisioned this evening would end," Jareth murmured, softly. He didn't want to wake her, after all. "Especially after that interlude in the kitchen, you teasing minx."

Sarah murmured something in her sleep, but Jareth didn't catch any words. After a moment, he said, "What was that, Precious? Of course I was affected. It's been a while since I've had such a fetching young woman in the Labyrinth." He paused. "Although, you seem to affect me more than anyone I can remember in my past. More than any wisher, more than any human—more than any creature, magical or otherwise, immortal or mortal. If you asked it of me, I'd probably _still _reorder time or turn the world upside down, which is daft of me, since you rejected me last time I offered. My compliance when it comes to you is rather frustrating, actually, I don't know _why_…"

_It's love, _the sensible part of him said, and Jareth felt his heartbeat speed up and the fluttering feeling started again, a sensation that was so intense now that it was almost painful. Jareth slowly closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath, letting it out in a tired sigh as he finally accepted the truth.

"It's love," he agreed.

# # # #

Sarah woke slowly to a pounding headache.

No, "pounding" didn't even _begin _to describe it. It felt like there was a horde of goblins Riverdancing in her skull. She groaned and buried her face into the pillow for a moment, until the pain faded to the background, only then did she open an eye and look around.

She was back on the sofa in Jennifer's apartment.

She frowned, slowly sitting up. The world swam in front of her eyes, which watered as her headache throbbed with defiance. She clenched her teeth and waited, and after a moment the pain faded again.

_Wait, I wasn't in Jennifer's apartment…was I? _She tried to remember. The night became very fuzzy in her memories, but she definitely remembered the goblins pushing her into the pantry and then cooking in Jareth's kitchen. And the delicious kisses and caresses.

And the goblin grog.

After that, things became a mishmash of flashing images and sounds. She remembered watching chickens race until she'd told the goblins that they should leave the kitchen for sanitation purposes (actually, her exact words were something like, "No feathers in the food! Feathers aren't tasty!") to which the goblins had asked her where she wanted to go, and for some bizarre reason she'd said the Escher Room.

Then there was a blank spot except for a brief interlude where she'd run up and down the Escher Room, sometimes upside down or sideways until she thought she'd puke, while yelling, "You don't scare me!" and "Ha ha! Can't catch me! I'm the Gingerbread Man—er, woman. _Woman_!"

Sarah blushed remembering that and thanked all the Powers that Be that Jareth hadn't been there.

Sarah frowned. _Wait…he had been there sometime, right? He appeared…_ She tried to remember. She remembered the goblins' Riverdance and Mort singing, and bits of conversation:

"_Where were you, Jareth?"_

"_Soon as you called, love, I appeared."_

Sarah blushed, then touched her cheeks to feel them hot under her palms. Oh boy, she had too much of a raging headache to think further right now.

Moving slowly in order to cause the least amount of agitation to her head, Sarah went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. After looking blearily at a few vitamin bottles, she finally found some Advil and took two dry. When she closed the medicine cabinet, she caught her reflection in the mirror and winced.

She looked pale, drawn, and her eyes were bloodshot. Her hair was a bird's nest, stray strands flying all over the place and most of it tangled into an undignified mess. Her pajamas were wrinkled. Had Jareth seen her like this? What had he thought? Had he been disappointed?

With a slightly trembling hand, Sarah squeezed some toothpaste onto her toothbrush and began to brush her teeth. The slight movements caused her head to flare with pain.

The thought of Jareth being disappointed at seeing her made her eyes mist with tears.

She was tempted to treat the whole thing as some strange dream—in some ways, it was better than having the Goblin King see her drunk out of her mind (_but at least still coherent and mobile, _Sarah thought)—however there were two things that made the whole night impossible to mistake for a dream: her hangover, and the fact that she still wasn't wearing any long johns. In fact, she was commando under her pajama bottoms.

_And all for nothing, _she thought, amused.

She heard Jennifer's bedroom door open and then Jennifer's voice, high-pitched with alarm, rung through the apartment as she said: "What the hell is on my _face_?"

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Afterwards, a very cheerful Goblin King decided to allow Tabitha to go back to the human world freely. And, in a rare show of compassion, he even sent back Molly. I'm sure the girls talked after a week of the silent treatment and patched up their friendship. ;)

Whew! This chapter became MUCH longer than I initially anticipated, but I hope everyone enjoyed it! Sorry for the delay, Real Life interjected and demanded my complete attention (I hate it when it does that. :D) I suppose I should say that I _know_ cellphones aren't in the correct timeline, if I go by the movie (if I was being truthful to the timeline, this story would be taking place somewhere around 1995, a few years before the type of cellphone Tabitha would have -- I imagined her demanding a cellphone with AT LEAST a camera, mp3 player, and loads of games -- and the Will Smith song), however I tend to put all my Labby fanfics in an indeterminate "present day." I don't like to call it "AU," because despite the technology jump I try to remain 100% (or as close as I can get) truthful to the characters.

This chapter is dedicated to **tichtich2**. I had planned to have drunk Sarah in the Escher Room, but tichtich2, it seemed like you and I were scarily on the same wavelength. And your exclamation of "O.M. Goblins" made me LOL! :D

Also I took a break from the food references. LOL, there will be more (there's still the party!) if you are wondering, but a break may be beneficial...I know I was making myself hungry by writing about all the tasty treats! And, **just a tidbit of information: **the book _In the Night Kitchen_ was one of my favorites as a child. A very good book. I still remember seeing a cartoon made from it and the song, "Milk! Milk! Milk for the cake!" :D

Oh, and I promised Jennifer would be back. LOL. Poor Jennifer.

**Please review!** As always, all comments/suggestions/questions are welcome and responded to. I know I'm behind in getting back to some reviewers -- I will try to catch up in the next few days, I promise. :) I'm very curious to see what you guys thought of this chapter, as it's mostly from Jareth's POV and is my effort to get into the Goblin King's head-space. I did try to keep him Otherworldly even if he is totally clueless (at first) about his feelings for Sarah. Hehe, it was fun. I also listened to a lot of **"My Moon My Man" by Feist** while I wrote this chapter -- it's a very good song (and strangely fitting, especially the part that goes, "Shed some light, shed some light on things...")

I will try to get the next chapter up ASAP. Dependent on my schedule, it could be as early as tomorrow...or as late as Sunday. :|

And now for a few shout-outs:

First off, **thank you everyone** who said Sarah-gets-drunk wasn't overdone. I was really worried about that! LOL. I tried to make it amusing. :)

**darkbangle:** "The Red Shoes" is a really sad song, I nearly cried too when I first heard it.

**nemo:** Never apologize for long reviews, I love them! Ukrainian Christmas sounds fascinating and delicious! Also, there's definitely going to be pie -- there has to be pie. And all manner of desserts...including cupcakes. Mmm, cupcakes. XD Also, I've always seen long johns in white and (usually for hilarity's sake) red. I thought white would be preferable for most people as it's most likely least visible under clothes. *shrug* Well, my pair of long johns are white (although I haven't worn them in 2 years, they might be lost in the recesses of my closet where even brave men fear to go).

**Lumissne: **It is generally agreed by the few scholars who have written about the Underground that goblin grog is a frightening substance that should be avoided by mortals at all costs. Only a few sips can leave a person inebriated beyond recognition. While the goblins hold the recipe of how to distill the potent drink tightly (and usually goblins don't keep secrets well, but they keep the secret of how to make goblin grog), it has been compared to gym socks boiled in acetone...with a hint of rosemary. If you do, indeed, find a sampling, I would suggest approaching with caution...and protective goggles. :D (Also, thanks for fighting the urge to throw poultry at me ;P)

**Cybernetic Mango: **Yum, a yule log. I made one once for Christmas. Even made mushrooms out of meringue. I will try and find space for it on the Underground party table.

**tichtich2: **Seriously, psychic much? LOL :P I was gonna have the goblins singing "100 bottles of grog on the wall" in the Escher Room with Sarah! But, in the end, Mort began singing "Getting Jiggy Wit' It" instead (from _the Men in Black_ movie), which, after imagining how Jareth's reaction would be, I found so hilarious I couldn't stop giggling for a whole minute. And thus, I had to add it. XD

**janeitesarah: **The unsexy long johns have been, unfortunately, forgotten in the Underground somewhere...but somehow, I have a feeling they'll show up again. Unsexy long johns have a habit of doing that. XD

**Shadowxwolf: **How could Jareth NOT like anything with bacon?? LOL.

**FaeriesMidwife:** I know, there wasn't much adult-type touching in this chapter. But, there was plenty of Jareth-ness...and drunk goblins! XD Donkey's my favorite character from _Shrek_, too, although Puss is a close second (his "cute look" is kind of how I imagine Mort looks).

**ChialiSnowbird:** Well, goblins can be like ferrets...they like shiny things and they are messy, but instead of dragging stuff to hide until it smells, goblins are more likely to randomly make things catch fire or break things. However, I agree: I wish my kitchen was self-cleaning and always knew what I wanted, maybe I wouldn't curse as much (I burn the toast a lot, and I HATE doing the dishes).

**Thank you everyone for your wonderful reviews!** They totally make my day! (_*Cordite Quill holds up her laptop and says, "Just read, enjoy, and review, and I will be your slave...well, not your slave, but a slave to the story..."*)_

* * *

The Fine Print: As always, I don't own anything in regards to the Labyrinth (what did you expect?), I only claim dominion over my own original characters/ideas.


	10. A Party Invitation

**Chapter Ten: A Party Invitation **

"Well, I've washed my face three times and it isn't gritty anymore," Jennifer said, coming into the room with a towel around her shoulders and her hair slightly damp. She eyed Sarah. "You look like a tank rolled you over and spit you up."

"Thanks for that," Sarah said, pulling on her sweater. "Least I don't have a gritty face."

"Gee, touchy much? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the sofa or something?" Jennifer opened the refrigerator and took out the orange juice. "Want some?"

Sarah watched her pour the orange juice. Her stomach flip-flopped and nausea bubbled at the pit of her stomach. She pressed the back of her hand to her throat. "No, no that's fine."

What she needed was something for the hang-over, to help settle her stomach. She opened the fridge and realized, not for the first time, that Jennifer never had any good food. She didn't even have any eggs or bread left. Sarah eyed the choices of ketchup, milk, salami, a bag of broccoli, and four cans of V8.

"Where's all the food?" Sarah asked. "Jennifer, you've been out of college for five years. Why does your fridge still look like a college freshman's?"

"Talent, I suppose?" Jennifer leaned close to look into the fridge. She took a sip of her OJ. "There's salami."

"I am not having salami for breakfast, not when I feel like this." Sarah grabbed a can of V8.

She opened the V8 and took a tentative sip. Her lip curled, but she forced herself to drink the whole lot in a few deep gulps. When the can was empty, she took a deep, shuddering breath and felt her stomach settle a little. She sat at the tiny dining table stuck in a corner of Jennifer's apartment and patted her stomach gently.

_Note to self: avoid the goblin grog in the future, _she thought. She froze, the V8 can half way to her lips. _In the future? As in, again? Go to the Labyrinth again?_

The idea of going back to the Labyrinth had come so easily to her mind, like going to the grocery store or taking a walk. It had felt _natural _that she would go back there.

Sarah analyzed that feeling from all angles, wondering, _Do I hope I can go back? _Well, the Labyrinth was a magical place and she always had fun when she was there—even drunk on goblin grog. The goblins were a handful, but she could let go of her responsibilities and just _play _when she was around them. She even had fun with the Goblin King. His mysterious, Otherworldliness was there, yes, but there was also the man whose face had shown with excitement when he told her of his Christmas feast plans. Oddly enough, both sides of Jareth made Sarah's heart flutter.

But she was mortal. Boring. Human. What right did she have to spend time in the Labyrinth?

Only half conscious of the gesture, Sarah twisted her ring around her finger thoughtfully. With all the insanity that had happened last night, she'd forgotten to ask Jareth about the gift. It was a good sign to be given a gift, right? But then, why had Jareth sent her home without a goodbye—or, since she probably wouldn't have remembered a goodbye, at least leaving a note for her? Why had she suddenly awakened in her bed? What had happened?

Again, she wondered if her being mortal had anything to do with her ending up alone on the sofa. She'd kissed Jareth and had been prepared to do a whole lot more. That was enough of a sign for any red blooded male to realize a girl was interested, right?

Sarah couldn't imagine Jareth being gentlemanly enough to let her go just because she was drunk.

_You don't want him to be that gentlemanly, admit it, _the devious part of her whispered.

_Well…can you blame me? I don't know how he manages it, but the Goblin King can push all my buttons—or at least I'm pretty sure he can. I didn't get far enough to really find out! He seemed to be doing just _fine _before he had to leave, _Sarah thought, frowning. _And by his own admission he's a villain. He shouldn't be acting gentlemanly! Not that I don't want him to…you know what? I'm just going to stop thinking right now before I make my headache come back._

Sarah sighed and tossed the empty V8 into the trash can. It bounced off the rim into the receptacle.

_Three points, _Sarah thought.

"Did something happen?" Jennifer asked, bringing Sarah out of her thoughts. "I mean, last night…" Jennifer paused, frowning. She tapped the rim of the orange juice glass against her teeth. "Actually, I could have sworn you were talking to a guy last night."

"What?" Sarah said, alarmed.

"Yeah, I saw him for a split second and then he was gone. Must have gone back into the crowds, they were pretty thick," Jennifer said, slowly, as if she was trying to draw the memory out from a deep well. "Blonde hair, kinda tall and pale—cute. Did you get his number?"

"Uh…not really," Sarah muttered.

"Bummer. I've been saying you should start dating again. Kris was hot, but he was a jerk. I suppose it's understandable, I mean, Kris with a 'K'?" Jennifer wrinkled her nose.

"Kris was just fine," Sarah muttered.

"Right, a fine jerk who broke up with you."

Sarah didn't say anything. The truth was that the relationship had ended because of her. Yes, Kris had broken up with her, that much was true, but she'd never told Jennifer the full story. Last Valentine's Day, now nearly a year ago, Kris had taken her out to a fancy restaurant and afterwards they'd gone driving to her favorite spot: a lake just outside the city limits. Sarah had always loved the place because at night the stars would shine like diamonds in the sky, twice as bright as one could ever see in the city with all the light pollution. And, they reflected so beautifully on the lake's surface. Sarah had sat there (perhaps not a wise thing to do late at night) many times, imagining the world had become nothing but stars—a starry road leading her to the sky. Kris knew it was her favorite place in the area. They'd walked to the edge of the lake and there, under the bright stars, he'd kneeled in the wet grass and presented her with a ring.

She had held the ring in her hand and for one shining moment had thought she could slip it on her finger…and then the moment had passed. She looked at Kris, kneeling there, breathtakingly handsome as always with his blonde hair and dancing blue eyes (though, that night, they had been near-black in the darkness of the night) and her heart had broken with the knowledge of what she was about to say.

She'd said she couldn't marry him, despite her feelings for him.

He'd gotten angry then. He'd stood up and jammed the ring back into his pocket, then said, _"Then what the hell are we doing? I want this relationship to go _forward_, not sputter and spin its wheels forever."_

Remembering that night still brought a hot tangle of emotions that made Sarah's cheeks flush: guilt, sadness, pain, and shame at being unable to love Kris how he deserved to be loved.

When she'd talked to Jennifer next, she had mentioned that she and Kris had broken up. Because of her disinterest in going into further detail, Jennifer had assumed the worst, and Sarah had never corrected her.

_I'll know, _Sarah told herself, firmly. It was the only comfort she could give herself. _When the time is right—when the right person asks, I'll know. I'll just know._

For a moment, she thought about Jareth and then snorted. Right, somehow she couldn't imagine the Goblin King on one knee with a ring in his hand. She didn't even think she _wanted _to see the Goblin King like that. He was a man from fairytales, after all.

The Mission Impossible theme song floated from the bedroom and Jennifer got up, putting her empty OJ glass into the sink. "That's probably my sister," Jennifer said, rolling her eyes. "Just be glad you never broke up with your boyfriends like my sister breaks up with hers. Ohmigod, the drama! Drama, drama, drama! And I have to hear it all, because I'm the older, mature sister."

Jennifer rolled her eyes and sighed, acting quite melodramatic herself, before she disappeared into her bedroom. Sarah sat alone, quietly, twisting the ring round and round on her finger.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the front door. Sarah frowned, glancing at Jennifer's closed bedroom door, and then stood. She was wearing PJs and a sweater over her camisole tanktop, and there was no way to know she didn't have any underwear on. She opened the door—to a blank hallway.

Sarah's frown deepened as she glanced left, then right, but no one was there. She tightened her grip on the doorknob, about it close the door, when a light cough made her look down.

There was a cluster of five goblins in the hallway, all of them looking at her with bright, shiny eyes. Sarah recognized Jeebo, Mort, and a few others from last night. She also noticed, with a twinge of envy, that none of them looked hung over. Maybe goblins couldn't become hung over.

And then she remembered where she was. Casting a panicked look at Jennifer's door, she said, "Guys, what are you doing here?"

"We're on a mission," a goblin with a feathered hat said. The feathers looked suspiciously like chicken feathers. "We gotta talk to Lady Sarah."

She wasn't sure when this "Lady Sarah" business had started, but she felt odd being called that. She also noticed that a lot of the goblins were looking at her with wide-eyed expressions that bordered on devoted. Oh boy. She really wished they wouldn't look at her like that.

"Well, you found me," Sarah said, forcing a smile. Telling the goblins that she was busy would probably do little to stop them; it would probably be quicker just to let them tell her whatever they wanted so they could go back to the Labyrinth.

After a moment's hesitation, Sarah peeked out into the hallway, glancing left and then right. It was deserted, like usual. Jennifer's apartment was nice on the inside, but the building itself looked like little more than a concrete box with rows and rows of single balconies. And the hallway was atrocious with its canary yellow paint, sickly fluorescent lighting, dark carpets, and never-ending apartment doors that all looked the same except for the numbering on each one.

Sarah stepped into the hallway, ignoring the way the carpet felt almost damp under her feet. She pulled the door closed. It had a deadbolt lock, so she wouldn't be locked out.

"So, what's all this about?" Sarah asked.

To her utter surprise and confusion, Mort pulled out a harmonica from his pocket. It was small, perhaps child-sized, but shiny and when he blew into it, the note that came out was clear. The goblins mimicked the note in a low, sing-song hum and Sarah looked up and down the hallway again, feeling panic rise.

"_Deck the halls with boughs of holly, _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la. _

_Tis the season to be jolly, _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la. _

_Don we now our gay apparel, _

_Fa la la, la la la, la la la._

_Troll the ancient Yule tide carol, _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la."_

"What is 'Yule'?" a goblin asked, whispering loud enough that Sarah could hear him clearly.

His neighbor goblin, who had pants with reflectors sewn into the knees, elbowed him so hard that he sputtered as the breath wheezed out of him. The goblin with the odd pants said, "_Sssh! _Singing!"

"Yules bring trolls," the goblin on the other side said, rolling its large, almost buggy eyes. "Don'tcha listen to the song?"

"Sssh!"

Sarah rubbed her forehead and sighed.

"_See the blazing Yule before us, _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la. _

_Strike the harp and join the chorus. _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la."_

"Guys, you don't have to do this," Sarah said, but the goblins ignored her, continuing to sing. They weren't in harmony, so the song turned into a cacophony that still passed for music—barely. "Guys?"

"_Follow me in merry measure, _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la. _

_While I tell of Yule tide treasure, _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la. _

_Fast away the old year passes, _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la. _

_Hail the new, ye lads and lasses, _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la."_

Worse, still, the goblins tripped over particularly long words, like "measure" or "lasses," and if they forgot a word, they would just mutter nonsense under their breath until they picked up the tune and lyrics again.

Sarah heard a door open and jerked her head up just in time to see Jennifer's elderly next door neighbor, Ms. Nebbit, who knocked on the wall furiously with her cane whenever Jennifer switched her stereo on regardless of the volume, ("Ignore her," Jennifer had said, "she'll get tired soon enough and just stop bothering.") peek out from around her door. She was almost comical looking with her Coke bottle glasses, her heavily lined face and hunched form, and her toothless mouth that made her lips concave. She always wore clothes in garish colors—right now, Sarah saw she wore a dress with huge, pink flowers on a royal purple backdrop—and she always had her cane firmly gripped in her hand as if she was just waiting to thrash someone.

However, when Ms. Nebbit saw Sarah with the goblins clustered in front of her in a horseshoe shape, her eyes widened until they seemed to fill the thick-lenses of her glasses. Her eyes were watery, but sharp. She blinked once…twice…and her mouth dropped open.

"Hi Ms. Nebbit," Sarah said, weakly.

Ms. Nebbit jerked back around the door and disappeared from view, slamming the door shut. Sarah groaned. Her only solace was that a person was more likely to think they were crazy than think they had seen a bunch of goblins singing a Christmas carol to a young woman.

"_Sing we joyous, all together, _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la. _

_Heedless of the wind and weather, _

_Fa la la la la, la la la la…"_

The goblins faded away as the song ended and they all looked at her expectantly.

"That was great guys," Sarah said, smiling. A part of her _had _enjoyed it, had actually found it sweet that they were singing to her, and she wished she was somewhere she could fully loose herself in the moment. Somewhere she didn't have to worry about people spotting the goblins.

Then, Mort raised the harmonica again and struck another note.

"_Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock—"_

"No no!" Sarah said quickly and the song sputtered to a halt, much to her relief. "That was _so _good, I definitely don't need an encore. So…why are you guys singing Christmas carols? You realize Christmas was yesterday, right?"

"Kingy said to," Jeebo said.

A goblin elbowed him and said, "Give Lady the message!"

"I'm _gonna _give Lady the message! Stop poking me!" Jeebo said, angrily. He turned back to Sarah. "Kingy gave very strict instructions—"

"One, go to Aboveground and find Sarah," a goblin said, and Jeebo glared at him for interrupting.

Jeebo said, "Yeah, and then—"

"Then knock on door _politely_," another goblin said, earning him an icy glare from Jeebo, which the goblin ignored.

"Then—" Jeebo tried again.

"Sing Christmas song to Lady Sarah!" Mort said, his wide eyes shining with excitement and, as he looked up at Sarah, doting loyalty.

Jeebo's face darkened with anger and he grabbed Mort's harmonica and chucked it down the hallway.

"Hey!" Mort yelped, and scampered off to retrieve it.

"Jeebo, that wasn't nice," Sarah said, keeping an eye on Mort as the tiny goblin navigated the hallway. He found the harmonica easily, it hadn't gone very far and it shined under the fluorescent lighting, contrasting with the carpet so brightly that it was impossible to miss.

Jeebo pouted, looking adequately chastised. "Sorry Lady Sarah, don't be mad at Jeebo."

"I'm not mad, but you should be nicer to your fellow goblin." Sarah watched Mort pick up the harmonica and turn to go back to the group. She glanced back to Jeebo and said, "So, why did Jareth want you guys to sing to me?"

"He said it was 'ad—ad—ad-e-quit-lee Christmasy,' " Jeebo said, stumbling over the words. "We supposed to do everything ad-e-quit-lee Christmasy 'cause party is tonight."

"Tonight?" Sarah felt her heart give a lurching _thump_ in her chest and a longing filled her. Should she ask the goblins if she could come?

But, before she could ask anything, Jeebo reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, white envelope. He presented it to her with a rather regal look on his face and said, "Kingy also said once we sing, we give you this and then we gotta get back im-im-im-e-dit-lee."

"Immediately? But—"

"Kingy said we gotta report. 'Report or bog!' he said."

Sarah couldn't help but grin. She could imagine the Goblin King pacing the throne room, waiting to see if his goblins had listened to him. She thought about asking if she was invited to the party, just blurting it out before the goblins left, but truth be told, she didn't want to hear the answer from the _goblins_. She took the envelope. "If you have to report immediately…"

The goblins headed off down the hallway and disappeared in the blink of an eye—all except Mort who, at the last moment, turned around and with his largest, doe-eyed look said, "Lady come by, okay?"

"Uh, sure, Mort."

Mort grinned happily.

Could he mean the party? She glanced down at the envelope and when she looked back up, she was alone in the hallway. After a moment, she went inside and closed the door behind her. She leaned against it and tore open the envelope, fishing out a cream-colored card. The paper was weighty, the fancy type of stuff, and in the center was a familiar symbol: a triangular shape with an odd, spiraling, circle design at its center and below that, curving horns pointing downwards. It took a moment for Sarah to place the symbol, and she kicked herself for not recognizing it sooner.

Jareth's necklace had the same design.

With slightly trembling hands, Sarah opened the card. Written in a fancy, calligraphic script was a simple message:

_You are invited to the first Underground Christmas._

_There will be refreshments, dinner, dancing, and all manners of magic._

_There will also be a Christmas tree, stockings by the fire, and chestnuts._

_Unfortunately, the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future couldn't make it._

_I do sincerely hope to see you there, Precious._

_Yours, the Goblin King._

_P.S. Dress code is formal…but for you, Precious, I'd make an exception._

_P.P.S. Go home, Sarah. There's one more surprise waiting for you._

Sarah grinned. If anyone had asked, she'd have never admitted how pleased she felt— or how much the second-to-last postscript made her abdomen tingle. She was invited to the party! And not only that, but Jareth was doing his usual tempting Goblin King shtick—could that mean nothing horrific had happened last night after she got drunk?

_The Christmas ghosts thing is funny, _Sarah thought, and then frowned when she realized that maybe Jareth _hadn't _been joking. After all, it _was _the Underground, where dreams and fairytales came true.

Which brought her to the last postscript. She re-read the words softly to herself and frowned. How had Jareth known she was still at Jennifer's? Sarah chewed her thumbnail thoughtfully, then looked around and murmured under her breath, "Jareth, if you're watching me from one of your damn crystals, know this: if you watch me undress, I'll kick you…in a place your tight pants advertised loud and clear."

She didn't hear any reply, but then she hadn't been expecting one. She glanced at Jennifer's bedroom door, but it was still closed. She supposed her friend was still talking on her cellphone. Well, Sarah was going to get dressed and then head out. She had a lot to do before she headed home: she needed a dress suitable for a party in the Underground (she wasn't quite sure what kind of dress that would be, but she knew she didn't own one), and if she was going to a Christmas party, she needed to bring gifts for the goblins, her old friends…and their King.

_What to get the Goblin King that has everything? _Sarah wondered, smiling to herself. She quickly began to pack her duffle bag, her hang over forgotten.

# # # #

The Goblin King didn't like how quiet the castle was. He frowned, sitting up in his throne, and muttered, "Where are those bloody imbeciles?" He listened and heard nothing. "It's quiet, too quiet."

He magically teleported to the kitchen, but that was empty. He looked for them on the spiral staircase—the goblins had a penchant for sliding down the banisters—in the portrait room where they liked to race chickens, and in the gardens where they liked to play hide and seek.

Eventually, he found them in the banquet room, which was decked out in Christmas finery. As he appeared in the room, he heard the usual cacophony that followed goblins everywhere and thought to himself that he should have looked here first. Lately, the goblins had come to the room to stare at the tree in hushed awe and resist the temptation to eat its branches. Jareth had told them that any goblin who sampled the pine would have a one way ticket to the bog and miss the party—and he'd know even if they tried to hide it, he'd smell the pine on their breath. So far, his threat of missing the party had been adequate; no one had tried to munch on the tree branches.

However, the goblins weren't looking at the tree, or tapping the gifts left under the tree, or adjusting the stockings hung along the top of the fireplace. Jareth watched in confusion as a goblin danced around with what looked like a long pair of leggings on his head. The other goblins had circled him and were clapping and cheering him on. The goblin flicked the leggings over his shoulder as if they were twin braids and twirled until he was dizzy enough to fall.

Jareth toed goblins out of the way and stepped into the circle, pulling the leggings off the creature's head and looking at them distastefully. He glanced at the goblin and—with the leggings off his head—he was able to identify which goblin it was.

"Jeebo," he said, "_what_, pray tell, are you doing?"

"Dancin' Kingy."

That damn nickname again. Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and said, slowly, "Jeebo, don't call me 'Kingy.'"

"No prob, Kingy."

Jareth sighed, closed his eyes, and counted to five before moving on. "I _know _you were dancing, Jeebo. _Why _were you dancing with _this _on your head?" He shook the leggings.

"'Cause that's what it's for?" Jeebo said, uncertainly. "It's a hat, Kingy!" And then, he added, "Isn't it?"

"No, no Jeebo, I can assure you that this is not a hat," Jareth said, pointing at the leggings. He glanced at them. "Although, I'm not quite sure _what _they are."

They were a distasteful, off-yellow color. Jareth held the leggings up and saw that the elastic band was frayed. They were also made out of extremely warm wool and soft to the touch. Jareth fingered the fabric and frowned.

They definitely weren't something that would be in _his _realm. The atrocious leggings weren't up to his exquisite, refined sense of style. He said, "Are these yours?"

Jeebo and the other goblins shook their head. A goblin with a large, bulbous nose and a flower pot on his head said, "I founds 'em in the bathroom."

"Found them…in the bathroom…?"

Jareth stared at the leggings a moment longer and then his eyes widened as he remembered something. Sarah had suddenly needed to go to the bathroom last night. It had interrupted a perfectly _wonderful _mood, in fact.

He twirled the leggings thoughtfully. Had she gone to the bathroom to dispose of _these_? Had she been wearing these under the sheep-printed pants?

Jareth had seen many strange forms of clothing in the Aboveground—some of them made the acquired clothes of his goblins seem tame in comparison—but he couldn't imagine wearing full woolen pants underneath more pants.

But then, he'd once been summoned to Russia by a child who had wished away his mother. Russia in the winter had been…cold. Jareth had quickly expanded some magic to keep his body toasty warm in the frigid weather.

But, humans didn't have magic. Were these kinds of leggings used to keep warm? He could easily imagine humans wearing two sets of pants in a place like Russia.

_Sarah cared enough about what you thought to take these off, _the sensible part of him whispered and that made him feel…very happy. He felt that damn flutter—that tell-tale sign of his infatuation (no, even worse, _love_)—in his chest, above his heart.

_Hold on, old boy. If she took these off, could it mean she wore nothing underneath those silly sheep pants? _Suddenly, the flutter became something hotter. He grinned, thinking what a pleasant surprise that would have been. He could almost imagine…

Now he half-wished he hadn't taken her back after she'd fallen asleep.

He had been generous—and still in shock at his self-discovery—and turned back time when he brought her back, so that she would get a full night's sleep. He had looked at her sleeping face as he put her on the sofa, then smoothed the hair away from her forehead and sighed with longing before pulling the blanket up and disappearing.

Back in his bedroom, painfully aware that he was there _alone_, he thought, _Sarah, you're still turning my world upside down._

Sarah…

_His _Sarah because she couldn't be anyone else's, it just wasn't a scenario he would entertain. If he was doomed to love her, he would accept that fate, but he would not lose her again. He _couldn't_. He had known he would invite her to the Christmas party—after all, it had been because of her the idea had come to him, and she had helped him—but now the party took on an important purpose.

Somehow, he would convince Sarah to stay with him, in the Underground, because he wasn't sure that he could live alone now that he knew he loved her. He wasn't sure he could face day after day, for eternity, with the goblins and the occasional wisher, if he was alone.

_I was right, _Jareth thought, his lips twisting into an ironic smile, _a Goblin King in love is a pitiful thing, indeed._

He noticed the goblins were watching him and cleared his throat. "Anyway, I think I shall take this, Jeebo."

"Aw, but Kingy—"

"Don't call me 'Kingy'!" Jareth grit his teeth. "You have no need for these and I think they are Sarah's. I'll return them to her. Yes…I think I'll do just that. I'll return them to her right now, in fact."

_She's had time to sleep, _Jareth thought. _The grog should have worn off by now._

Jareth hadn't been planning to see her until the party—after all, what was the human idiom? "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." But, he just couldn't help himself. Devious thoughts of a Sarah sans underwear were marching through his head. He wanted to see her.

Now.

Jareth disappeared with the leggings.

The goblins looked at the spot where their King had been standing a moment earlier. Now there was only a sprinkling of glitter. Jeebo huffed and said, "Who wants to play poker?"

"Me! Me! Me!" several goblins shouted.

"Okay, but I dealer," Jeebo said, pulling out his wrinkled deck of cards from his pocket.

# # # #

Sarah sighed with relief as she finally fiddled her door open despite the fact that she was laden with shopping bags. She entered her apartment and closed the door with her foot.

Her apartment was smaller than Jennifer's, but prettier. The building was old, so the pipes rattled and she had to set out traps to keep the cockroach and rat population at bay, but she still loved the place. The open floor plan made the apartment seem bigger and airy. There were huge, floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room that looked out onto a small, green park. The bathroom had a claw-foot tub that, just recently, had a shower installed. Her bedroom was just big enough to cram a queen sized bed, a dresser, and a bedside table into, but she'd put up her paintings and photographs until the bedroom had become an impromptu art gallery—one that only the most special of people ever got to see.

Sarah had, at one time, been rather artsy. She'd taken Theater in college, with minors in Studio Art and Drama History, then she'd gone back for an extra year so she could finish an Education degree, as well. In those days, she'd had no idea what she wanted to do with her life, but it had all worked out for the better.

Sarah shivered and made sure the radiator was on before laying her coat over the back of the futon and moving into the kitchen. She grabbed the jar of peanut butter, thinking to slice an apple, but when she turned her eyes fell on a pie sitting on the tiny island counter that acted as the only divide between the kitchen and the rest of the apartment.

She hadn't baked a pie…except for last night in the Underground…

She put the peanut butter on the counter and leaned closer to the pie, as if she expected it to say hello, but it looked innocent enough. In fact, it looked delicious. The crust was flaky and golden-brown and latticed over the top. The fruit which peeked through was a brilliant, golden-orange color, almost indescribable.

Peaches.

Sarah's heart began to speed up. She looked around the pie and spotted a small, red envelope with her name carefully printed on the top. With a trembling hand, she picked the envelope up and opened it. Inside was a matching note card and familiar, calligraphic script that read:

_For old time's sake._

_This pie was made with magic from what I learned watching you._

_Enjoy, Precious._

It wasn't signed, but Sarah knew exactly who it was from. She bit her lower lip and regarded the pie uncertainly.

Later, when Sarah analyzed that moment, she'd notice that there had been some warning to his arrival. There had been a slight noise in the air as it was forced to move to suddenly accommodate a new shape. And maybe the noise of flapping wings—but that may have just been her imagination. However, at that moment, Sarah wasn't prepared for the silky smooth, masculine voice that said, "Why Sarah, did you just get home? The pie will be cold."

Sarah yelped, jumping back and dropping the envelope.

Jareth was lounging on the armchair, which Sarah usually had pointed at the windows, but right now it was at a right angle to the futon and so looked right at the kitchen nook.

He looked good, with tight beige pants, a poet's shirt with ruffles at the collar and sleeves, and those knee-high riding boots. It was a look she remembered from ten years ago, except now he'd added a blue waistcoat with golden embroidery. His hair was the same long, voluminous style with wispy bits that surrounded his face and brushed his shoulders and back. Very few men could pull off ruffles, but somehow Jareth managed.

Her gaze rested on his lips. Though they were thin, they were well shaped, and she could remember the feel of them as they glided over her lips and skin.

Jareth smirked. He probably had realized exactly what she was thinking. Sarah looked away, blushing, and said, "Don't you ever—I don't know, use the front door? Knock?"

Jareth snorted. "A Goblin King doesn't need to use the front door."

"It's polite."

"Do you really object to my being inside your home, Sarah?" Jareth said, softly, and although his voice was just as silky smooth and seductive as ever, his eyelids drifted down to hood his gaze, as if he didn't want her to know how he really felt.

Since she couldn't deny that she was pleased to see him, Sarah decided to let it go. Instead, she pointed at the pie and said, "Don't you think it's a bit risky giving me a _peach _pie considering our…history?"

Jareth grinned and stood gracefully, forcing Sarah's gaze to follow the lithe column of his body. He walked to the kitchen nook and she desperately tried not to think of predators and _stalking_ and how her abdomen was tingling as she watched him.

Oh boy, she had it bad. She wanted him badly.

He leaned on the island counter and regarded the pie. "Not at all. I am merely pleased with the fruits of my labor and wanted to show you. But, you let it get cold. Didn't the goblins give you my note?"

"Yes, but I had a lot to do."

"Then it is lucky you have the Goblin King here." He waved his hand over the pie and immediately Sarah saw steam rising up from it as it was heated through. "And all without needing an oven or one of those silly contraptions." He nodded at the microwave.

Sarah found herself staring at his lips again and forced her gaze away. "Do you want a slice?" She took down some plates.

"I wouldn't mind."

Sarah dished out a slice of pie for each of them and even added a little ice cream on the side. Pie a la mode, a real treat.

"Should I be worried?" Sarah asked as she cut a forkful of her slice.

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the last time you gave me anything with peaches, it made me pass out, and I had a very _peculiar _dream." She noticed that he was watching her cut into the pie intently and she added, "I really don't want to dream right now."

"I'm a little insulted," Jareth said, meeting her gaze. "You would think I would poison you? Why would I do that, Precious, when you've proved amply that it's _much _more interesting to have you…awake?"

The little pause was pregnant with potential and Sarah shivered. She cleared her throat and said, "You've said on numerous occasions you like being the villain—"

"Ah, but what is the basis of comparison?" Jareth smiled, teasingly. "If it is a choice of hero or villain, I think I'm more suited to the latter." Jareth reached out and let a lock of her dark hair run through his fingers. The gesture was intimate and caused Sarah to lock eyes with him again.

"Don't you?" Jareth murmured.

Sarah swallowed, unsure of what to say without totally giving away how he affected her. He seemed to know, though, because he was amused—and yet, there was something different about all of this. There was something different in the way he was looking at her and even touching her, something more…hopeful? Desperate? She couldn't put her finger on it, but she knew it was there.

Suddenly, Jareth leaned back, letting his hand fall to rest on the countertop. He said, "Don't let it go cold again, Precious."

Jareth didn't touch his slice until Sarah had sampled hers. He watched with strangely bright eyes as she brought the forkful to her mouth. It tasted fine, better than fine, delicious. She probably looked surprised, because Jareth chuckled. Magic was too convenient, she thought as she finished up the slice.

"Aren't you going to have any?"

"I will. I think I enjoy watching _you _enjoy it more, though." He smiled and leaned his chin on his hand, watching as she finished the food. "It's my first time doing magic for this purpose. Usually, the goblins are in charge of the food—and they usually cook some interesting combinations. When they've thoroughly messed everything up, I fix it all into something halfway palatable."

"Interesting combinations? Like what?"

"Hmm, well, there was that week they thought to add beets to everything."

"_Beets_? Why beets?"

"They liked the color," Jareth said with a small smile. "I was given beet soup—nothing but beets boiled in water, and that was the tamest of it—and then, there was the pickle and ice cream—"

"_Pickle _and ice cream?"

"Yes, dill pickles just pushed into the ice cream. It _looked _unappetizing, let alone tasted," Jareth said. He thought for a moment. "Actually, many of their food choices seem to involve ice cream. Once, I watched them slather barbeque sauce, the aforementioned pickles, and carrot sticks into their soft serves. I felt my stomach lurch, that was for sure."

"That sounds horrible."

"Oh, it was, Sarah."

"Why do you put up with it?" Sarah suddenly asked, curious despite herself. "I mean, you're the Goblin King."

"It is _because _I'm Goblin King that I must put up with it," Jareth answered, picking at the crust of his pie. He sighed. "Goblins are special creatures. They don't change, they don't age, and they are untouched by time — perhaps more than even I am. They are what they are…"

"What you see is what you get," Sarah murmured.

Jareth nodded. "As such, they need a ruler with patience." He paused, and suddenly grinned. "A ruler with charisma, magnificence, dignity. A ruler with brains and looks to match."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "A ruler filled with _vanity_, perhaps?"

"Vanity? You wound me, Precious. I only speak the truth."

Sarah wondered if the goblins were what kept Jareth from boredom. Maybe that's why he put up with them, because their antics were something that broke the monotony of everyday life. _What must it be like to be immortal and the only human in your world? _She didn't remember seeing anyone else. Sarah licked her lips and tentatively asked, "Are there any other humans in the Underground?"

Jareth frowned, his eyes suddenly shadowed and he looked away from her to stare out the living room window. "No," he said, finally. "The rules state that the only humans other than residents of the Underground are those running the Labyrinth and the loved ones they wished away. There are no human residents. The Underground, in a way, is a place for those who fit nowhere else, watched over by a king who didn't quite inherit the title."

"Didn't he?" Sarah murmured.

Jareth glanced at her and smiled. "Why, no. I am a fishmonger."

Sarah blinked, then sighed and put her dish into the sink. "Doing near-quotes of Shakespeare doesn't help. And we were having a good conversation, too."

When Sarah turned back, Jareth looked contrite and, to her surprise, the pie slice on his plate was gone. She wondered if he had eaten it, or had teleported it elsewhere, but she took his plate and washed it, too.

"I don't remember a time I wasn't the Goblin King," Jareth said, after a moment. "For all intents and purposes…I was always Goblin King."

"And you are the only one of your kind? It sounds lonely. Why not invite some human residents?" Sarah asked, quietly, her heart beginning to pound.

"For a long time, I had no interest in asking anyone. I thought that it would grow boring quickly and then I would have some _human _hanging around that I didn't like, and what was I to do then? But…" Here, Jareth cut-off abruptly, looking bleak. His lips curved down at the corners and Sarah had the wild urge to kiss each corner and make them turn back up into that seductive, dastardly smile he usually had.

"But?" she prompted. Her heart was pounding particularly fast and she knew, instinctually, that a lot depended on how Jareth answered the next question. Something was happening between them. Ever since the Goblin King had come back into her life, it was like she was heading towards something definite, like a new path had been laid before her and she couldn't resist it.

"But then I began to think that assumption was wrong." Jareth licked his lips and Sarah couldn't help but follow the motion.

"You asked someone?"

"Yes."

"What did he or she say?" Sarah could hear the echo of her heartbeat in her ears. Did Jareth hear it? It seemed loud enough that the whole neighborhood should be able to hear it.

Jareth gave her an amused look and said, "_She _rejected me, I'm afraid. Quite outright and quite surprising, given all my good qualities, but I suppose that is the downside of taking such risks."

"You'd never ask again?"

Jareth froze and he turned back to her so he could search her face, looking for something. He murmured, "I would have said no, never, not again in a million years, but…"

"But?" Sarah whispered.

"But if I saw some sign—some hope—then I think I _would _ask again. Or maybe even do something completely un-Kingly and beg." He smiled, sadly.

Sarah met Jareth's gaze and something inside her, maybe her heart, seemed to crack open. Jareth's mismatched eyes were filled with an introspective pain, and his smile was self-mocking, as if he couldn't believe what he'd just admitted and wasn't very proud of himself for admitting it. The look in his eyes said he firmly believed that his story could only have an unhappy ending.

Sarah's heart was heavy, full of emotion, but she could recognize one of them. The pounding, almost painful feeling she got when she was around the Goblin King flared until she gave a half-choked gasp and she reached over the counter to frame Jareth's face gently in her hands. His eyes widened in surprise and then she had leaned over, following her hands, so she could kiss him.

Jareth stiffened momentarily, then moaned against her lips and it sounded almost relieved. A moment later, he had teleported the brief distance to her side of the counter, so quickly that she didn't even feel the disappearance of his lips. When he appeared by her side, he took her in his arms. He pressed her against his body, tilted her face up to his, and kissed her.

Sarah felt her knees turn to rubber and she had to lean against him for support.

He kissed her so thoroughly, leaving no inch of her lips untouched by his. Sarah wrapped her arms around his neck. Her body was flush against his. She rubbed against him, unable to resist teasing a little, but the affect was instantaneous for both of them. Sarah felt like someone had dumped warm water through her veins, she gasped against his lips, and Jareth groaned before pushing her against the wall. It wasn't gentle, but he cushioned the back of her head with his hand. Even if he hadn't, Sarah was swimming in naughty, lusty thoughts and probably wouldn't have noticed. Her body tingled, ready and primed.

Jareth kissed and nuzzled her neck. She closed her eyes and threw back her head, nearly knocking it into the wall herself, and groaned. She felt him smile against her skin, pleased with the reaction. He cupped her hip with one gloved hand, and Sarah shuddered, then with the other he began to deftly unbutton her shirt, kissing the exposed skin.

A part of Sarah's brain was impressed and jealous by how easily he unbuttoned her shirt one handed, but it was quickly silenced by a fresh wave of desire when Jareth pressed his lips to the swell of her right breast, just above where her bra was. She whimpered and ran her hands along his neck, burying her fingers in his soft hair.

Jareth gave a sound of approval, then licked the spot he had just kissed before playfully tugging on her bra with his teeth. Sarah was having trouble thinking, but she definitely wanted that bit of clothing off. She opened her eyes, about to say something, when she looked over Jareth's shoulder to see Jeebo sitting on the kitchen island.

Seeing a goblin looking at them with his elbows resting on his knees, his chin pillowed on his hands, and a bored expression on his face was quite the mood killer. She froze and Jareth made a sound of protest.

"Er…Jareth…"

"Precious, don't tell me you're having second thoughts—"

"_No_, Jareth, um…" Sarah said, then leaned down to whisper, "Jeebo is behind you."

Jareth stiffened, then slowly turned around. Sarah tugged her shirt closed, shivering when the cold air hit the wet spot where Jareth had licked her. She was suddenly tempted to bog Jeebo.

"What are you doing here?" Jareth asked the goblin, his voice only a few levels above infuriated.

Sarah leaned around Jareth to look at the goblin with disapproval.

"Guests're showin' up soon, Kingy. I was supposed to get you?" Jeebo said. He had noticed the look on both of their faces and shifted uncomfortably. "Um…sorry?"

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "There's at least an hour left."

"Hey! I don't know if I want _just _an hour!" Sarah said, before she could stop herself.

Jareth gave her a look that made her blood thrum and she blushed. She added, "Er, besides, I have to get ready."

_This is _so _not fair…_ she thought.

Jareth sighed, then said, "Oh yes, that reminds me, I came here with a purpose in mind and you distracted me, you minx." He grinned and extended his hand. In between the blink of an eye, Sarah saw a familiar article of clothing appear in his hand.

She knew that faded yellow color…

With horror, Sarah realized Jareth was holding her long johns. Before she had time to think about what to do, she made a squeaking noise of embarrassment and grabbed them, jamming them behind her back. Then she realized that she'd just confirmed the embarrassingly unsexy underwear was hers and she blushed.

"I take it they _were _yours, then?" Jareth said, with amusement, confirming Sarah's worst thoughts.

"It's not what you think—"

"Oh, come now Sarah, I was enjoying my thoughts." Jareth leaned forward and his voice dipped. "I was thinking you were leaving your under clothes around the Castle and walking without anything but a single layer of flimsy cloth. I'd've loved to check this time…" he glanced at Jeebo, who still seemed to be watching them with semi-bored, semi-amused interest, "but it will have to wait. You _will _be coming to the party, yes?"

Sarah met Jareth's gaze and forgot what she was going to say. Jareth grinned and kissed her thoroughly, nipping her lower lip between his teeth before stepping back. If anything, that made her thoughts even more sluggish.

"You will be coming to the party, Sarah?"

"Yes," Sarah said, dreamily.

Jareth chuckled. "Those leggings—"

"Long johns," Sarah said, blinking and trying to mentally grab her wayward thoughts.

"Long johns? Indeed? What a silly name." Jareth paused, grinning again. "The long johns aren't necessary, of course. _Completely _optional. In fact, I suggest keeping them at home this time."

Sarah blushed furiously. "You're so infuriating sometimes! Like this isn't embarrassing enough!"

Jareth laughed, but then his expression sobered and he regarded her with an odd look in his eyes; seeing it made Sarah's heart speed up with longing. Jareth gently stroked her cheek, then trailed his fingertips along her jaw line to end at her lips, which he brushed with the pad of his gloved thumb. The soft leather was warm and before Sarah could stop herself, she parted her lips and licked the leather with the tip of her tongue.

_Two can play at this game, _she thought, her eyes sparking with challenge—and promise.

Jareth's breathing picked up. So quickly Sarah couldn't have reacted, even if she wanted to, Jareth moved his hand to the back of her head and pulled her close for an achingly tender kiss. It was like he poured all his feelings into that kiss and Sarah could almost _taste_ them against her lips. The tenderness belied the rigid grip he had on the back of her head, as if he was afraid she'd disappear. The kiss spoke of hot longing and cold loneliness, and of hopefulness, and it made Sarah's heart pound and quake. She felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest and fly towards Jareth.

Jareth pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. He said, "When the party begins, a goblin will come to get you. I'm looking forward to seeing you there, Sarah."

Sarah shivered at the implication in his words, the hot promise, and at the way his breath ghosted over her lips. She wanted to kiss him again, but before she could, he—and Jeebo—had disappeared, leaving her hot and bothered, with an unbuttoned shirt, and gripping the long johns in her hands.

Sarah blinked, looking around. Her apartment seemed different now, as if it had been touched by magic—or maybe that was just her desire-addled brain seeing things. She pressed a hand to her feverishly hot cheek and murmured, "Jareth, you're a damn tease."

_There's a chance, _the devious side of her thought, _that you may be falling in love with the Goblin King._

Sarah sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "If I haven't already!" she muttered.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Oh my goblins, this chapter took forever (and it's the longest chapter I've ever written)! It didn't help that real life kept butting in. Grr. However, look, adult-type touching! Well worth the wait, right? Right? :D And I even managed to get the long johns back for Sarah. LOL. Next time on "State of Mind," there will be secrets revealed, presents opened, good food eaten, and goblin mayhem abound!

So, Sarah raised an interesting question...What would **YOU**, dear readers, get a Goblin King? Please review, I'd love to hear your answers! :) If there's one that particularly strikes my fancy, I might rework my outline to include it and give the reviewer a big, happy shout-out of thanks and glee.

In fact...**this chapter is dedicated to** **kms5665 **and** tichtich2**, both who said there must be peach pie. Well yes, peaches do seem to have a special place in Sarah and Jareth's hearts, no? LOL. I think they're definitely going to remember this dessert, too. :D

**Please** **review**, I'd love to hear your comments/suggestions/thoughts. Do you think Sarah and Jareth can have a happily ever after? Do you think the party will go off without a hitch? I love all the reviews I get, they leave me with warm, tingly feelings of happy-joy and encourage me to get to writing. :D And yes, I do reply to every one I receive, either here or by email. :)

Also, from everyones reviews of last chapter, it amused me greatly how well received Tabitha (now entitled "The Bratty Teenager" LOL) was! I was worried she'd be way over the top! I may have to bring her back someday... *shifty eyed look*

A few shout-outs before I head to bed...

**merlinswit: **Thanks for the wonderful compliments! Yeah, I know it must be annoying to read stories chapter-by-chapter and I wish I was good enough to write out the whole thing beforehand, but to be honest, this story is kind of fluid. I'm especially enjoying asking my readers for input and changing it accordingly, so it can't be all typed up beforehand. Plus, I usually have too many projects going on at one time to write out whole stories in one go. LOL.

**Jack Hawksmoor:** Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it! I'm not sure/convinced if I'll go full M. We'll see... XD However, I imagine that Sarah and Jareth will _eventually_ get to his bed. Muhahaha.

**nemo: **Thank you so much for the wonderful compliment, I was gratified to know my little fic lifted your mood. :) Ukrainian holidays in general seem like insane fun! Kind of like my family's holidays (when we manage to all get together)! As someone who has worked with children of all ages (actually doing a job similar to what Sarah is doing in this story), I've seen way too many of the cellphone obsessed type. And yes, they do fill me with fear. *shudder* Poor Jareth. And whew, I'm glad I got away with the drunken Sarah section. :) As for what's going to happen...you'll have to wait and see! Muhaha!

**Cybernetic Mango:** What a wonderful idea! I can imagine all of the world's leaders suddenly having a big party bash and trying to Riverdance as they get drunk off goblin grog...A perfect opportunity for me to _take over the world!_ Wait, what? Did I say that out loud? *ahem* Anyway, nothing to see here. Carry on. :D

**Aysuh: **Tabitha did, like, totally deserve it, right? XD Actually, I don't know if Jareth was completely a gentleman, since he was a little shell-shocked at the time. Poor Goblin King has never truly been in love before.

**Ayjah:** No worries, it's not over till it's over! LOL. Actually, I am currently planning 3 more chapters. :)

**tichtich2: **Thank you for the wonderful compliments. I have decided to incorporate the NEW "OMG" and I think I may have spread it a bit, myself. LOL.

**FaeriesMidwife: **Look! Look! ATT! XD I think I skirted the T rating again. LOL. I'm afraid Real Life didn't stay away, bah. Was sooo busy this week.

**Artemis: **Yeah, Jareth had more patience than I would have, but then again, he has to deal with the goblins' antics on a daily basis. Some may say he exaggerates his good qualities, but patience is definitely one of them.

**ChilaliSnowbird:** I bet your ferrets would love the Escher Room! Think about all the places they can hide food! Yipes!

**Lumissne: **LOL, of course I research well! Didn't you notice the dark-haired woman in the bushes with the pen and paper muttering to herself? J/K XD As for coming up with goblin grog, starting with peaches is always a good place to begin. Although purple methylated spirits worries me...remind me to stay at least 30 feet away from you when you mix everything together. LOL.

**Thank you everyone for the wonderful reviews! *happy dance***

**

* * *

**_The Fine Print: As always, I don't own anything in regards to the Labyrinth, I only claim ownership to my own original characters._


	11. Party in the Underground Part 1

**Chapter Eleven: A Christmas Party in the Underground (Part 1)**

Sarah nervously smoothed her hand over her dress and checked her reflection for the millionth time. She had bought the dress just for this party and she thought it looked good on her, but maybe, knowing the Goblin King, it wasn't flashy enough?

_Stop it, you're just being nervous, _Sarah thought.

The dress had a floaty and ethereal skirt that came to just below her knees and was studded with little crystals. The top portion was in a corset style, with beautiful, floral embroidery in silver thread. Thin straps went over her upper arms, keeping it in place. She had matching shoes—and matching underwear. The dress had cost an arm and a leg, and she'd thought of her poor savings account, already depleted since she was taking two weeks off, but she couldn't feel sorry for spending the money. Sarah knew this night was important. It wasn't _just _a party; she and the Goblin King would be meeting in the Underground when no one had been wished away and…well, there was only one way it could end, if those kisses had been any indication.

Sarah blushed, remembering how it felt to press against Jareth's body and feel his lips on hers, his hands on her skin, and his scent in her nose. Whenever she thought of him, her heart picked up and went all fluttery. She had it bad.

And that was probably why she didn't feel guilty about buying a hugely expensive dress with expensive shoes and expensive underwear to go with it.

Hey, she needed all the weapons she had, after all Jareth was a _Goblin King_ and Sarah was way out of her league. What did a person ask a Goblin King? "Let's go steady"? "I like you"? "Be my Valentine"?

_Ugh, stop thinking, _she decided, wincing at her reflection in the mirror. _I'm just making it worse._

Yes, something instinctive in Sarah told her that this night would be different than anything in her life before. She felt like Cinderella about to go to the ball.

In the mirror she saw a flash of green and brown and maybe even a twinge of blue. She gasped and jumped in fright before realizing it was just the goblins.

"Hi guys," she said, looking at their reflection in the mirror.

There were three of them: Jeebo, of course, who liked to be part of everything and anything going on in the Underground. Next to him stood a portly goblin with a portly kettle tied to his back (what was it with goblins and kitchenware, anyway?) and next to him was a smaller goblin with a linen vest and matching, haphazardly sewn pants.

"Hi Sarah!" Jeebo said.

"We're here to takes ya to the party," the goblin with the kettle said.

"Lead the way, fellas," Sarah answered, turning around.

This time, the goblins used her coat closet; except, when the goblin with the ragged pants opened the door, it was that horrible black abyss again. Sarah hated walking into black nothingness, but she knew, deep down inside, that she wouldn't fall to her doom. Despite what gravity and rationality may say, she _knew _that the Underground was on the other side, and that knowledge let her step forward into the closet-that-was-no-longer-a-closet.

# # # #

"Kingy, where should we put this?" a goblin asked, holding up a bag of mistletoe.

Jareth's forehead twitched. When had that infernal nickname started spreading?

The black trash bag was full and Jareth said, "You know _Plan B_…"

The goblin's eyes widened and his little mouth puckered in an "O." He said, "_Plan B…_?"

"I briefed all of you imbeciles already," Jareth said, impatiently. "The mistletoe is attached to the ceiling," Jareth pointed up, "just in case."

Jareth had come to an important decision somewhere between kicking the goblins away from the Christmas tree and having them start dancing on the table instead of setting it. He needed Sarah there, because forever could be…well, forever…Because he wasn't interested in just listening to his subjects' and playing the game. Because he loved her and wanted her there with him. Denying his feelings just wasn't going to work anymore, if she wasn't there _with _him, he was quite sure he'd go crazy _thinking _about her. In the last few hours, he hadn't been able to _stop _thinking about her, much to his frustration.

The Goblin King didn't like to feel vulnerable, and loving someone made him feel vulnerable. So, obviously, the next course of action was to make sure Sarah was there. Then he wouldn't have to constantly think and wonder about her. It made perfect sense.

The mistletoe would help. If all else went wrong, he could kiss Sarah. In fact, maybe he should start by kissing her. She seemed to have difficulty resisting his kisses—and who could blame her? He was, after all, a very handsome and powerful Goblin King.

"This had better work," he muttered, looking around. "The thought of just being surrounded by the idiotic goblins, the Labyrinth subjects, and…the chickens…" He shuddered.

Suddenly, the goblins stopped what they were doing and looked towards some spot in the distance, their eyes glazed. Jareth waited, knowing they would tell him what was wrong in a moment. A moment later, they all grinned and began hopping around happily.

"Sarah here! Sarah here!"

"What? Already?" Jareth frowned.

"Lady here! Lady here!"

It was amazing how far getting drunk with the goblins would go to put a person in their good graces. Jareth wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but after the whole goblin grog incident, the goblins had viewed Sarah differently—almost reverently. They often referred to her as "Lady" and would get big, nauseatingly happy grins on their face when speaking of her. Jareth took this as a good sign. The more the goblins liked Sarah, the more likely they were to help him woo her.

"Quickly!" Jareth pointed to the goblin who was putting up the mistletoe. "Finish that as fast as you can! Magic it up there if you have to!"

# # # #

Sarah nervously stood in front of the Christmas tree, a non-descript plastic bag looped around her arm and gently brushing her hip. She looked at all the boxes underneath the tree. Most of the presents were wrapped in bits of newspaper, brown paper bags, or some weren't wrapped at all but had hay or chicken feathers glued to it. It was pretty obvious which presents the goblins had wrapped and next to theirs, her own carefully wrapped presents looked almost out of place.

In her hands was a gift, carefully wrapped. For one moment, Sarah felt overwhelmed. She was celebrating Christmas in the Underground.

Someone touched her arm and she turned to see Jareth standing next to her. "You have been staring for five minutes," he said. "Is there something wrong with it?" He nodded to the tree.

"No, it's perfect."

Jareth's expression softened, then his eyes twinkled mischievously and he said, "What is the expression? 'I've done my homework.'" He looked up and Sarah followed his gaze. The ceiling was covered in…was that mistletoe? She couldn't walk anywhere in this room without being under mistletoe. She looked at Jareth with raised eyebrows.

"A little heavy-handed, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Jareth asked, innocently. "Tradition says I get to claim a kiss."

Sarah grinned. "You could just ask—or not. I mean, we've kissed a lot already."

"Don't besmirch my hard work, Sarah. Do you know how difficult it is to direct goblins into attaching leafy, green things onto the ceiling without having them crush the plants, it them, or otherwise destroy them? Very difficult, so difficult, in fact, I think I shall reward myself by kissing you right now."

Jareth took a step closer and Sarah's heartbeat picked up. Oh yes, that's why she was here, celebrating Christmas in the Underground—because her traitorous heart demanded she do so.

Jareth leaned forward, but just before their lips could touch, one of the goblins tugged on Jareth's hand. The Goblin King made a frustrated noise and looked down. "Yes?" he growled.

"When we gonna open presents, boss man?" the goblin asked.

"Soon, after dinner."

"_After?_" the goblin whined. "Why not now?"

"Because…" Jareth was looking at Sarah again. His expression was different today. Soft and—dare she think it?—kind. She could see it only because she'd been staring at him so much recently. Had he been affected by their time together or was she being hopeful? Sarah had seen differences in him from what he had been when she was younger. Her hands tightened on the gift box.

Jareth's gaze shifted to her mouth and his eyes darkened. He leaned forward to kiss her. Suddenly, there was a crash and with a groan, Jareth looked over his shoulder. The banquet table, which had been covered in a nice tablecloth and cutlery enough to feed an army, was crawling with goblins. One had broken a plate.

Jareth waved a hand and the broken plate appeared back in its previous spot, completely fixed.

"Maybe we should open the gifts and have dinner before everything's destroyed," Sarah joked.

Jareth sighed. "I suppose you are right. But after…" and his eyes twinkled again, "there are fireworks."

The goblins were already clustering around the tree and it took a lot of effort to shift her focus back to the tree. Yup, she had it bad. Beyond infatuation. Oh boy, she was in trouble.

"Well," Jareth said to the goblins, "have at it."

Sarah had to retreat back a few steps as the goblins descended on the presents like a horde of marauding Huns. They screeched and cheered with glee as they grabbed at boxes and tore at wrapping paper—if newspaper, sticks, and thistle could be called wrapping paper.

"How do they know which one is which?" Sarah asked, watching them with fascination. None of the goblins looked to see which box was marked as whose. Actually, it didn't seem like any of the boxes were marked.

"Goblins can't read," Jareth said, also watching the show. He shook his head. "It's always like this. Even at my birthday. So, I learned long ago to get them all the same thing. And then it's all about first come first serve. They like the challenge—like hunting for a meal."

"What did you get them?"

"Stones."

"_Stones?_"

"I think there may be a few with pots and pans, as well. They'll fight over those—the stones will get some use."

"_Get some use?_"

"Sarah, when you squeak like that, I find it particularly cute, so whatever emphatic effect you're going for is lost upon me," Jareth said with twinkling eyes and a teasing smile.

For one brief, painful moment, Sarah's heart leapt with hope. That wicked part of her whispered: _There's some mistletoe above you—_

_Stop, I don't think just making out with the Goblin King will satisfy me anymore. _Before the devious voice could correct her, Sarah quickly said, _I mean, satisfy me _fully_…I want more._

_Well, there can _be _more, but there's an audience. I didn't think you were that type of girl._

_Shut up, _Sarah told…well, herself. She focused back on Jareth, who was looking at her curiously. Oh no, how much had shown on her face? Jareth was better at the inscrutable looks; she could never figure out what the Goblin King was _really _thinking and feeling. However, Sarah knew what she wanted: something she couldn't have. Yes, she and Jareth had moved past villain and—what? Princess? No, more like adventurer—into a tenuous, fragile friendship. A friendship that involved hot, passionate kisses…

But Sarah didn't think the Goblin King loved her—not the way she wanted. Their tumultuous past threw up too many obstacles. Jareth had tricked her, frightened her, forced her to run the Labyrinth. He'd drugged her! Tried to seduce her! She wasn't sure this all wasn't some flight of fancy by a powerful, magical being, much like her last visit to the Underground. Could she trust the Goblin King? How would she know?

She took a step toward Jareth and his eyes darkened with anticipation. The frolicking, fighting, cursing goblins surging around their feet were momentarily forgotten. Sarah opened her mouth, unsure of what she was going to ask, but certain it would change everything.

"Jareth—"

"I's here and nobody can say Hoggle's a coward!" a familiar voice said.

"Excellent, I was worried Ambrosia would prove more lion-hearted than you," another familiar voice said with a sniff.

Surprised, Sarah turned, looking toward the great door that marked the entrance to the hall. Walking into the room were familiar, dear faces: Hoggle in the front with Sir Didymus, still riding the shaggy Ambrosia, and behind them Ludo loped along.

"Hoggle! Didymus! Ludo!" Sarah cried each one of their names because she couldn't believe they were in the same room as her. She hadn't seen them other than through a mirror since the night she'd run the Labyrinth, and she hadn't talked to them in _years_.

She ran up to Hoggle, giving him a big hug despite his protests, then hugged Didymus—much harder to do since Ambrosia kept fidgeting—and finally Ludo, who returned her embrace in a crushing one between his giant arms.

"We heard you were back in the Underground, my lady," Didymus said. "We came for the celebration of your return."

Sarah smiled. "It's a Christmas celebration, Didymus."

If a dog-thing could look cheeky, Sir Didymus managed it quite well. His dark eyes twinkled and he said, "Of course it is, lady."

Sarah frowned. "What do you…?" _No way would Jareth go through all this trouble to get me back here. _But, he had insisted _she _make the food, had insisted _she _come to the Christmas celebrations. Sarah glanced behind her to where Jareth had stood a moment ago and was surprised to find he was gone. She stiffened, suddenly hurt. The thought of him purposefully trying to see her flew from her mind and she quickly turned back to her friends.

"I've presents for all of you, and since the goblins are opening there's…" Sarah reached into the plastic bag she'd brought with her. She took out small gifts for each of them.

"I didn' ask for a gift," Hoggle said.

"Thank you, my lady. You are most kind," Sir Didymus said.

"Ludo happy!" Ludo said.

Sarah grinned, her heart expanding with happiness. She'd missed them and until that moment, she hadn't realized just how much of a void their absence had left in her heart. They were part of her, part of her history and her story, part of her life.

She watched as Hoggle greedily ripped open the wrapping paper—a motif of Christmas trees on a red background—and opened the little, paper box. He pulled out two bracelets; one with large, chunky, orange beads and the other red beads strung on a clear thread, made to look like rubies.

His eyes widened. "Not bad."

"Plastic, just like you liked."

He threaded the bracelets onto his belt and said, gruffly, "You still didn' have ta. I didn' ask for nothin'."

Sarah rolled her eyes, but her smile was affectionate. "You're welcome."

Ludo opened his present with a few flexes of his powerful fingers. Inside was a rock with googley-eyes.

"It's a pet rock," Sarah said, grinning. "For the rock singer." She'd spotted it a long time ago at a garage sale and something had made her buy it, perhaps a subconscious memory of her old friend.

"Ludo like!" Ludo petted the rock with a finger and cooed, "Rock, me call rock 'Rocky.'"

And then, to Sarah's utter delight, the rock's fake eyes suddenly blinked and he nearly ripped in half as he opened his mouth wide to belt out a beautiful high note. Sarah laughed, clapping her hands. The rock pet sung some pretty notes and then settled back in Ludo's hand, once again nothing more than a small stone with googley-eyes glued to it.

Sir Didymus received a bow for Ambrosia, which he kindly thanked Sarah for, his whiskers quivering. He paused, then added, "We've been remiss, my lady, for we haven't brought anything for you."

"It doesn't matter. I'm just happy to see you." Sarah smiled. "Although, I don't understand why you stopped appearing in my room or in my mirror. I'd call, but—"

"It's because you grew up," Jareth interrupted and Sarah jumped, turning to find him standing only a foot away from their little group. All the creatures stiffened, especially Hoggle, whose face paled and his eyes widened. "You stopped believing."

"I didn't, I kept calling—"

"Ah, yes, an empty gesture," Jareth answered, his voice stiff and formal. He flicked his fingers in a dismissive gesture. "Somewhere deep down, you wondered if anyone would appear because maybe—just maybe—it had all been a dream. That little kernel of doubt is all it took, Sarah."

"But—"

"It must have been such a betrayal for them, when you stopped believing. An inevitable betrayal," Jareth continued, leaning close. "But it's fated to happen. We are so easily forgotten once the adventure is over."

His words were harsh and hurtful. Sarah winced, scooting back away from him. Sir Didymus got down from Ambrosia's back and stepped forward. "Truly, Sarah, don't trouble yourself—"

Hoggle grabbed him, causing Ambrosia to whine.

"Quiet!" Hoggle told Didymus. "You wanna get us all in trouble?"

"I didn't forget," Sarah said.

"You _doubted, _and in this world, that's just as worse," Jareth hissed, his eyes flashing.

Sarah shook her head, hurt by Jareth's words and his expression. What was wrong with him? This was like the old Jareth—the cruel one. Her anger flared at this attack and she hissed, "So I grew up, so I wasn't the best friend, but at the time I was only doing my best. I don't know all the rules about this place—and nobody told me! If I had known, I wouldn't have doubted for a minute."

Jareth sneered. "Is it not fair, Sarah?"

Sarah sputtered, then shoved the plastic bag at Jareth. "You're…_impossible_. I don't get you at all!" She stalked off, which was silly since there really was nowhere to go. It was hard to have the last word when her choices were either wander the castle aimlessly or stay in a large room filled with goblins and other Labyrinth creatures, her friends, and Jareth.

She went to the fireplace and stared into it, her arms crossed. She would _not _look back at that jerk, she would _not_. Sarah peeked over at Jareth. She was still angry, but she couldn't ignore him completely—not while being in the same room as him.

_Maybe I should have demanded to go home, _she thought, but that was a little too immature for her.

Jareth had taken out the last box in the plastic bag. This one was wrapped in delicate, white paper with gold Christmas trees and glittery snowflakes. The wrapping paper had seemed appropriate: something glittery and shiny for the Goblin King. Sarah watched as Jareth ripped off the the paper and opened the box. He lifted out a glass paperweight and with a wave of his hand, the box and wrapping disappeared, leaving only the paperweight cupped in his palm.

It was a clear glass sphere with colored, blown glass inside that had been molded into shapes. There were beautiful shades of off-white meant to represent a snowstorm and at the center, a shock of green glass had been expertly crafted into the shape of a Christmas tree. There were even little air bubbles, imperfections because the sphere had been handcrafted, but to Sarah those bubbles looked like Jareth's crystals floating, suspended in time.

It was a silly little gift. Now that she saw it held by the Goblin King, she wondered what she'd been thinking. But what to give the Goblin King that can wave his hand and have anything and everything? If she'd had more time, maybe she would have tried to do something more personal, like an engraved pen or piece of jewelry. Or maybe she'd have taken up knitting and made a scarf. Although, the thought of Jareth in a knitted scarf while wearing his preferred outfits of leather, tight pants, and ruffled shirts made Sarah smile.

Then she remembered she was pissed off at him and looked away—just in time, too, because from her peripheral vision she saw Jareth look toward her. She couldn't make out his expression easily without staring directly at him, but she hoped he felt guilty.

And then she remembered something he'd said only minutes earlier: _"We are so easily forgotten once the adventure is over." _We, not "your friends." In fact, the hostility had begun when Hoggle and the others entered. Sarah glanced towards them. Sir Didymus was trying to coax Ambrosia near the Christmas tree, but the dog seemed unwilling to go near the rampaging goblins. Ludo was humming with his pet rock, and Hoggle petted the bracelet—until he spied a fairy that had made her way in and glared at her, saying something that Sarah guessed was a threat.

Jareth went to her, the paperweight still in his hand. She waited, studying his expression, and was surprised to find it tender, maybe even delighted. A thrill raced through her, a tingle that ended in her abdomen.

"Precious," he said, stopping in front of her, "is this for me?"

"Yeah, it's your Christmas present," Sarah said, nervously. "I hope you like it. I wasn't sure what—"

Jareth leaned forward and kissed her. It was such a soft, gentle kiss that she felt her heart quake. All she could do was return the kiss, which never went past gentle brushes of his lips against hers. When Jareth finally stepped back, Sarah felt like she was a warm puddle of butter—melted, clarified, concentrated.

"Thank you," Jareth said, softly. He didn't take his gaze off of her, but added, "It's quite lovely."

"I—I'm glad you like it."

Jareth grinned. "I don't often get such nice gifts. My subjects are known for getting me horrific, _scarring _presents, until I banned it outright."

"Banned getting gifts?"

"Yes, I figured _that _would be an adequate celebration for all birthdays and parties in the future."

"What did they get you that was so horrific?"

"If only it was one! Let's see…there was the year that they managed to get a Tasmanian Devil into a box and wrapped it up. They found him 'cute' and thought he would make an excellent pet. They even named him Wilbur. I, of course, was unaware of any of this as I opened the box. Apparently, Tasmanian Devils become _extremely _grouchy when they are crammed in a small space for a few hours. The goblins chanted 'can we keep him?' and skipped around my feet as the creature tried to claw my face off."

Sarah burst out laughing, unable to help herself. Jareth told the story with a deadpan expression and such matter-a-fact exasperation.

"Wilbur, of course, went back to Australia and I banned the goblins from bringing anything alive back from the Aboveground without my permission beforehand," Jareth said. "Ah, and then there was the year they filled a jar with sand and presented it to me."

"_Sand_?"

"They thought they would bring the beach to me."

Sarah smirked. "They felt you needed a vacation?"

"Apparently. What they failed to realize is I needed a vacation from _them_. Sometimes their clueless, destructive, childish ways can threaten my sanity." Jareth sighed.

"Sand _is _better than a Tasmanian Devil to the face," Sarah pointed out.

"I was thankful for that at the time."

"They mean well, at least."

"True." Jareth shook his head. "You're too kind hearted to the creatures here. Even before, when you were a young girl, you could make friends with anybody."

Sarah smiled and said, "When's dinner?"

Jareth glanced at the Christmas tree. The goblins had finished and were beginning to get bored. Some had started throwing wrapping paper and boxes—some threw gifts. It was funny to watch, although Sarah couldn't help but wince in sympathy when some of the goblins were clobbered with stones—it seemed like stones was a favorite goblin gift. However, after being pelted, the goblin would shake it off and reach for the nearest thing to throw back.

Sarah watched as Mort flew through the air and crashed into Jeebo.

"Maybe we should have dinner right now, before the goblins become _truly _bored. Bad things tend to happen then," Jareth murmured, dryly. In a louder voice, he shouted above the goblins' yells, "Dinner is served!"

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Hi guys, sorry for my long silence. I started a new job and...well, it's been taking up all my extra time. However, right now I have a lull in the never ending amount of work so I uploaded this chapter while I could! I hope you like it. :)

Hehe, Tasmanian Devil to the face...Wilbur happily resides in Australia where he tells his grandchildren (in Tasmanian Devil-ese, of course) of the strange time he was grabbed by a tiny, green creature and stuffed into a small space. In his version, when the pale creature released him, he won the ensuing, epic battle. :P

Thanks for all the suggestions about what to get a Goblin King. I think someone mentioned a paperweight, but for the life of me I can't remember who! Let me know! I liked the idea of a paperweight because it seems appropriate and cute that Sarah would give Jareth a crystal, for once. ;)

Thank you for all the wonderful comments, reviews, etc. They've kept me going when I wasn't sure if I was writing anything worthwhile. Thank you to everyone who said they enjoyed the story and for all the wonderful compliments. I have a few shout-outs:

_TheEscherMouse:_ There is a theory that Jareth's job is to take children that are not wanted but because he loves Sarah, he comes to her personally instead of just a goblin being mischievous and taking the child. I decided to work with that theory. :) I also have fanfics in the works ("One Foot in the Underground" and "Seeded Dreams") that work off the theory that only Sarah can - and has - called him.

_Lumisse: _Yes, I know I'm a tease. ;) Goblins will put everything and anything in food. They are definitely of the "never know till you try it" persuasion. ;) That grog is getting lethal sounding, though!

_High Queen of Dreams:_ Hehe, I'm glad you like the X-rated make-out sessions. ;)

_Tenshiii777: _There's always one troublemaker...or a room full of them, as goblins will invariably get into mischief. :P

_Cybernetic Mango: _Oh? Should I be scared? :D

_darkbangle: _I was going to use a cookbook, it was a good idea! Hmm, maybe for the future... ;)

_tichtich2: _I'm glad you liked the adult-type touching. ;) I know I have to work OM Goblins in there somewhere. Hopefully I'll find a spot.

_chilalisnowbird: _I definitely don't want them to be like two hormonal teenagers...more like horny adults, if anything. :P Thanks! A ferret! They always seemed like cute pets, if somewhat...um...messy and smelly. And given my choices, I think I'd choose the one that goes to sleep in my shirt, lol. Although what if I was asleep and rolled over and squished him/her?

_Ayjah: _Yes...yes, lucky Sarah. *dreamy sigh*

_Scriptrix-scrptorum: _*snicker* Yup, that's what they're calling it._  
_


	12. Party in the Underground Part 2

**Chapter Twelve: A Christmas Party in the Underground (Part 2)**

The food spread out in front of Sarah, making her mouth water. She noticed there were more desserts than main courses, but when she saw the goblins grabbing for the chocolate cake, she could guess why. However, there was still the usual: roast ham, turkey, vegetables of various kinds roasted in butter sauce, and even shrimp cocktails. As two goblins fought over a cupcake—resulting in one goblin finally getting impatient enough to throw it into the other's face—she reached for a dinner roll.

"This looks so good," she said, glancing at Jareth. He had insisted she sit to his right, in the only other chair with a full back and cushioning. She also noticed that crowns had been carved into the top of the chairs—hers was shaped more like a tiara, actually, and she tried not to debate on the meaning of it. On the other side of her, Hoggle was seated—much to Jareth's annoyance—and next to him was Sir Didymus and then Ludo sat on a huge, stone bench. Nearby, Ambrosia ate from a doggy dish.

"It should be," Jareth said, confidently. "It took quite a bit of magic and knowledge to assure each item would be at their peak."

Sarah took generous helpings of roast potato and vegetables with her ham. She glanced at the centerpiece, an enormous gingerbread house that looked exactly like the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. One of the goblins reached for it, but when Jareth glared at him, he shrunk back and grabbed a sugar cookie instead.

"Do goblins only eat sweet things?" Sarah asked, amused.

"No, they will eat anything," Jareth answered, dryly. "They will bite through rock, if need be, however they like sweets and meats." Jareth smiled, amused. "Basically anything besides vegetables."

At the mention of veggies, the closest goblins made a face. Sarah grinned.

Sarah had to remember to eat, watching the goblins hork down food was distracting. Jareth glanced at her plate and said, "There's peach pie…"

"Yes, and apple, but this is enough food to feed an army."

"The goblins will make short work of it. I suggest you finish now what you can."

"Ludo like," Ludo said, chomping on some apples, pit and all.

Sarah smiled at him, then watched Hoggle pick through his food, grabbing meat and little else. She grinned. This was surprisingly fun, and she spoke to her friends—and Jareth—about her life Aboveground, about her friend Jennifer, about her family and Toby. Sarah noticed that the food never reduced; it seemed if anyone wanted more of anything, it would be there, within arm's reach.

_A true, magical banquet, _she thought, happily.

"Have you ever seen anything like this, Precious?"

Sarah turned back to Jareth, feeling slightly flustered when she saw him leaning forward and staring at her so intently. "Ah," she said, momentarily forgetting her train of thought as she stared into his eyes. "No…of course not. Nothing like this."

Jareth's grin widened. "You mean there aren't such wonders in the Aboveground you love so much?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "You _know _there isn't. There are other things, though, like family and friends and love."

"All that can be found in the Underground as well, Precious." Jareth said the comment lightly, but his expression was serious—and Sarah found she couldn't look away.

She felt a tug on her shirt and looked down to see a few goblins crowded around her chair. One of them said, "Sawa, we made a gift for you."

They'd even tried to wrap it in newspaper…and glue feathers to it. Sarah took the gift and picked off what looked like a raven feather. She said, "Thanks guys. I wish I'd been able to get each and every one of you something individualized…"

"In—in—what?" Jeebo said.

"I mean…um, never mind." Sarah waved a dismissive hand. She'd given them candy—probably not the wisest thing to ply goblins with sugar, but it had been the only thing she could think of. She glanced at Jareth. He'd probably say the goblins would have been happy with rocks. But, the goblins seemed happy sucking on candy canes, or using them for pretend sword fights.

She tore open the newspaper. Inside was a piece of polished glass, the kind found on a beach, having been battered smooth by the ocean. Sarah held it up, looking at the glassy, green color. She stroked her thumb across the soft surface and said, "Thanks guys, it's really pretty."

Suddenly, someone plucked it out of her hand. Sarah looked up and met Jareth's gaze, wrinkling her nose in annoyance. She said, "That's my gift."

"Mmhmm." He twirled the piece of glass in his fingers. "Quite a nice gift from the goblins. Do you know what they gave me once?"

"What?" Sarah leaned toward him, avoiding getting cream on her sleeve, and tried to grab the piece of glass back. Jareth easily moved back and Sarah growled with annoyance.

Jareth raised his eyebrows, baiting her, but his mismatched eyes twinkled with mirth. He looked at the glass again and said, "An octopus. I don't know how, but they once caught an octopus and brought it to me. Poor thing was basically dead, but I sent it back to the sea."

"The goblins caught an _octopus? _Do they often go to the beach?" Sarah scooted closer to Jareth.

"They often go _everywhere._"

Sarah grabbed Jareth's arm and tried to grab the glass with her other hand, but again Jareth leaned back, dragging Sarah forward until her upper body was nearly on his lap and she nearly fell out of her seat. He grinned at her and said, "Hmm, if you turn it just so, it will show you your dreams."

"_What? _Don't mess with my gift." Sarah braced a hand against Jareth's chair and grabbed the glass, popping it into her pocket. It was only then she realized she'd left her seat and was leaning across him. A vulnerable position, and when she met Jareth's gaze, she knew she'd played right into his hands.

He leaned forward and caught her lips in a kiss infinitely sweet that it caused butterflies to flutter in her stomach. Sarah gently rested a hand on Jareth's shoulder to steady herself. Jareth tangled his fingers in her hair, deepening the kiss.

Distantly, Sarah heard the goblins yelling, "Eeeew!"

Then she heard Jeebo's loud, distinct voice say, "Ugh, pass the potatomos! Is so disgusting, it made me hungry."

"Everything makes you hungry," another goblin said.

"So pass potatomos!"

Jareth licked her lower lip and the background noise faded to a buzz as Sarah gasped. Jareth pulled her down so she sat on his lap. But, despite the delicious kisses, she couldn't ignore the fact that the goblins were everywhere. There was something unsettling about kissing in front of them, perhaps because they were so innocuous. It would be like kissing in front of Toby.

But she definitely knew she wanted to get Jareth alone and kiss the living daylights out of him. _I love him, _she thought.

Sarah sighed, pulling back. Then frowned and sniffed. "Jareth…do you smell something burning?"

"What?" He blinked, and Sarah felt satisfied knowing that the kiss had affected him quite a lot. Actually, if she scooted forward on his lap, she would probably feel just how much he'd been affected.

Jareth looked around and groaned. "The curtains are on fire."

Sarah nearly fell off his lap in her scramble to stand up and look. "_What?_"

"You say that so often, Precious." Jareth calmly stood.

The curtains that went across the large bay windows had somehow caught fire. Goblins were running around the room yelping, "Fire!" and trying to beat it with rocks, then yowling when it burnt.

"Oh! Don't touch the fire!" Sarah yelled, desperately looking around the table for someone to stop the fire. There was a pitcher of water and she grabbed it, the condensation wet against her hands.

"Precious, there's no need," Jareth said, his voice still calm. He waved her away. "You forget who I am. I can control this easily, it happens more often than you'd think." Jareth tugged off his gloves and walked toward the windows. The fire crackled. When had that happened? And how had it happened so quickly?

Sarah put down the pitcher, wanting to watch Jareth's magic, but she felt something brush against her hand and jerked, whirling around in surprise. Hoggle looked up and tapped the ruby ring on her finger. "I seen this somewhere…"

"You always did notice jewelry," Sarah muttered, keeping an eye on Jareth. She saw how the fire reflected off his face. His expression was grim, his lips set in a determined line. He waved his hands and the fire simply disappeared with a _whoosh_. She shivered, witnessing such power was…unsettling and yet arousing. She glanced at Hoggle. "It was my mother's. I was wearing it in the Labyrinth, but I gave it to the Wise Man."

Hoggle frowned. "You got it back?"

"Jareth gave it to me."

Hoggle's eyes widened. "Ya never take something back once it's been given to the Labyrinth!"

Sarah turned away from Jareth, who was arguing with the goblins now about the proper way to treat furniture. She noticed Hoggle's expression and unease shivered in her stomach. She sat down next to Hoggle and said, "What do you mean?"

"Once somethin' becomes the Labyrinth's, it'll always be the Labyrinth's," Hoggle said. "'S why anythin' that's taken from the Labyrinth can be called back."

"Hoggle, I don't understand," Sarah said, impatiently. Her heart was beginning to pick up speed and she leaned forward, resting a hand on Hoggle's. His skin felt like sandpaper. "What do you mean 'called back'? Why are you looking at me like that? What's so bad about getting my mother's ring back?"

"'Cause it ain't totally yours no more," Hoggle said, softly. "Anythin' from the Labyrinth can be called back. Anythin' from the Labyrinth is part o'the Labyrinth forever. And the Labyrinth's King can always find part of his kingdom. And it spreads. Ya got some o'the Labyrinth on ya and soon you'll reek of it and the King'll always find ya."

Sarah stared at Hoggle in shock, the words slowly sinking into her mind, but they seemed to cause only more confusion. Her mind felt like it was full of bees, her thoughts kept buzzing around, wheeling back and forth. _Did he know? Of course he knew, he's the Goblin King. He gave me a ring knowing it was…_infected _by the Labyrinth; he wanted to know where I was, and he wanted to be able to bring me back to him whenever he wanted._

"_You have no power over me." _Sarah gasped, remembering those long ago words. She'd beat him at his own game; there'd been no way for him to find a loophole in _that. _No way to call her to him. But he'd given her this ring to fix that problem.

_But what about the kisses? The looks? _For a moment there, Sarah had been sure she'd seen love in the Goblin King's expression. She had been willing to do anything in that moment in the kitchen—_anything_. And he did _this _to her?

Anger began blossoming in her chest, causing her heart to beat heavy, the thumping echoing in her ears. She took a few deep, gasping breaths.

Hoggle said, "He can't be trusted, Sarah. He's the Goblin King."

Sarah chuckled, but it sounded dead to her, without mirth. She leaned back and drew her hand back, rubbing her forehead. She said, "Of course, he's the Goblin King. I…" Her throat closed up as tears suddenly misted her eyes. Angry, bitter tears.

_I can't trust him. He's the Goblin King._

"Sarah? Sarah, what's wrong?"

Sarah blinked away the tears and looked up, meeting Jareth's gaze. He had one goblin by the scruff of the neck. Another was wrapped around his legs. Sarah would have worried about the one being held by his neck, but he was grinning ear-to-ear. It was such a family scene that it would have warmed Sarah's heart only five minutes earlier, but now she felt only simmering anger. She stood abruptly and said, "I want to go home. Take me home." She moved towards the door.

"Precious—" Jareth released the goblin and shook off the one on his leg.

"Don't call me that!" Sarah said over her shoulder. She pointed at the door. "You're such a magical guy, right? When I open that door, it had better lead to the Aboveground—my home." She wrenched it open and muttered, "Great." All that was on the other side of the door was a hallway. She huffed and stepped into the hallway.

"The front door is the other way," Jareth said. He closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall. "I never understand you, Sarah."

"_You _don't understand _me?_" Sarah whirled and stomped back to him, moving right up to him in her anger. She waved her hand in his face, showing the ruby ring. "Hoggle told me this ring is _infected _by the Labyrinth, and once something is infected, it becomes a part of the Labyrinth. That with this ring, you can always know where I am, that my words from before are null and void as long as I have this ring. Is it true, Goblin King? Is it true?"

Jareth glanced at the ring. His face was expressionless and he said, softly, "Yes."

Sarah blinked, surprised despite herself. A part of her had wished that Hoggle was wrong, but Jareth had admitted it so easily. She swallowed, feeling like there was a rock in her throat, and said, hoarsely, "Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you try to trick me _again_?"

Jareth sighed. "Insurance."

Sarah waited for more, but Jareth looked away, his jaw set. Sarah laughed, bitterly. "In—_Insurance_? That's your answer?" Sarah took a step back.

"Sarah," Jareth said, "what did you expect from me? All those years you'd call to your friends in the mirror but never…never the Goblin King. And then you did, on a whim no less, and I saw an opportunity—"

"An _opportunity_—?"

"Yes! A way to ensure that when the _fickle _Miss Sarah Williams changes her mind and says those words again…I'd have a way back _in_."

"_Within you…" _Sarah was getting flashbacks to those hours in the Labyrinth. This Jareth, the one standing in front of her now, was the cold Goblin King who had scared and confused and angered the fifteen-year-old Sarah. She took a deep breath, forcing back the tears. She would _not _cry in front of the Goblin King.

"You know why I change my mind?" Sarah said, softly. She pulled the ring off her finger. "Because I realize I can't trust you. This is my mother's ring…I was really happy when you gave it back to me. But I don't want it." Sarah held it out and Jareth slowly extended his hand. Carefully, so as not to touch him—she was afraid if she touched him, her resolve would diminish—she dropped the ring at the center of his palm.

"Sarah, don't do this—"

"Jareth, I can't trust you. This is the peach all over again. You can't…you can't _make _me stay. We were doing so well." Sarah shook her head.

"How can _I _trust _you?_" Jareth said, moving a step forward. Sarah shrunk back, her eyes widening. In front of her, in all his glory, was the old Goblin King: majestic and cruel. His eyes snapped with barely withheld anger, causing his eyes to almost glow.

"Do you remember what I said to you?" Jareth said, quietly. "I can't live within you, Sarah. I can't be anything besides what I am, and I am the Goblin King."

"So you cheat, you trick—"

"To get what I want? Yes," Jareth hissed. "But it's more than that. I offered you your _dreams _last time we met. I offered everything you wanted. I took your brother when you asked it of me—"

"This is an old song and dance, Jareth—"

"And yet it always comes back to those thirteen hours in the Labyrinth, doesn't it?" Jareth smirked. "When Princess Sarah became a Queen—"

"Stop, don't say that." Sarah turned away, but Jareth grabbed her and pulled her back.

"Look at me, Sarah. How can I trust you? In that twisted room, I watched you leap for your brother and I—" Jareth paused, and Sarah could almost see him swallow back the words he was about to say. She wondered what he stopped himself from uttering, but he recovered quickly. "Later, when I offered you your dreams, I thought you would say 'yes' to my offer. It just was unthinkable that after everything I'd done—"

"What about the peach?" Sarah argued. "And if you say 'insurance,' Jareth, I'll—"

"I did it to meet you!" Jareth snapped, then looked surprised that he'd said it. He turned away, he seemed almost embarrassed by admitting that.

Sarah frowned. "Meet me?"

"How else could I get close to you but in a dream?"

_He sounds…wistful. _Sarah bit her lower lip, feeling her heart flutter, but then she saw the ring in Jareth's hand, the ruby winking at her and she felt her anger grow all over again. She clenched her jaw, then said, "You could have just, I don't know, asked?"

Jareth blinked. "Asked?"

"Yeah, go up to me without the sparkly magic, the outrageous costume, and the big hair and say, I don't know, 'hi, my name's Jareth'? I had to learn your freakin' name from Hoggle."

Jareth took a step forward and held out his empty hand, palm up. "Sarah—"

"No Jareth!" Sarah shrank back again, shaking her head. "That time passed and I thought you'd changed because of all of this, but that ring," she pointed at his other hand, the one clenched into a fist at his side, "shows me you haven't changed at all. I may have hurt you back then—and for that I'm sorry—but I've changed, Jareth."

Sarah blinked at the tears forming again, but this time a few tears rolled down her cheeks. She curled her lip in self-disgust, wiping the moisture away. She took a shaky breath, unable to meet Jareth's eyes as she murmured, "I wish the Goblin King would send me home. Right now."

"Sarah—"

"_Right now!_" Sarah looked up then and saw the expression deep in those mismatched eyes. Her heart twisted, but her mind was made up.

Jareth's eyes shuttered, that glow banked. The expression was gone, replaced by calm detachment. He nodded and in his empty palm, a crystal sphere appeared; flawless and perfect as always. Sarah stared at her own reflection in the crystal, she saw a glow start at its center and in an instant it engulfed her in a blindly bright, white light.

She heard Jareth's voice in her ear whisper, _"Everything you have asked, I have done."_

Sarah closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she was back in her bedroom, except this time there wasn't her friends there waiting for her…and there was no sense of triumph, either. Sarah couldn't hold back the sob as it ripped out from her throat. She sank to her bed, pressed her face against the pillows, and cried bitter tears.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Yes, I'm back. I want to finish this story before Christmas (it only took a hellish year, but hey, Christmas has come back around :P) and there's only one chapter left! I'm sorry if this chapter seems oddly disjointed; I wrote the first part of it before everything happened this year and I got super busy (I'll blog about it soon), as a result it's a little more raw, and while I went back to edit it as best I could, I really just wanted to get this uploaded.

Thanks for all the comments and encouragement to keep going! I'll reply to all the comments next time, since it's late, but I think I've included all the wonderful food suggests you guys listed. If I didn't, I apologize. So thank you notwritten, luna andie, kms5665, luna andie, Emily, Cybernetic Mango, tichtich2, Nemo, callandra, Madame Dee, Shadowxwolf. :)

I know this got a little depressing and took a sudden turn. Actually, this was always preplanned. I remember somebody guessing correctly about the ring (the Goblin King has been bad, hasn't he?), and for that reader, congratulations you get a cookie! :)

**Please read and review!** I'd love to know what you think about this turn of events. Do you think the Goblin King and Sarah can patch things up? Whose side would you be on, Sarah's or Jareth's? All suggestions/comments are welcomed and replied to [as soon as possible].


	13. Sarah's Temper

**Chapter Thirteen: Sarah's Temper **

"I don't get you," Jessica said, frustrated. "You're acting like you broke up with someone. Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Nothing at all," Sarah lied. "Is it so strange to want to wear PJs and eat ice cream?"

"Yes, when you've been doing it for the last three days!"

"Well, my PJs are _really_ comfortable."

"At this point, I'll take the long johns over those PJs any day. Have you washed them recently?"

"Ew, _yes_. I'm not a slob."

Jessica sighed and shook her head, then repeated, "I just don't _get _you!"

"Yes, we've already established that." Sarah waved her spoon at Jessica. She should stop eating ice cream otherwise she wouldn't fit into her ultra comfortable PJs which she wasn't wearing because she was moping about a certain Goblin King's betrayal. _Broken up, indeed, _she thought. _You have to be a couple first in order to break up._

"Sarah," Jessica said, sitting next to her on the sofa, "is this about Kris?"

Sarah nearly choked on her ice cream. "I haven't thought of Kris in a year." He'd been her last boyfriend and December had marked a full year since they'd broken up. She'd been disappointed, and hurt, but she'd moved on fairly quickly.

"You didn't _grieve_, I said that was unnatural. Maybe this is—I don't know—delayed reaction or something?"

"Jessica, I'm fine, really." Sarah licked her spoon. "Want some Chunky Monkey?"

"I don't want any Chunky Monkey!" Jessica said, exasperated. She slouched on the sofa and glared at Sarah. "I want to go _out_. I want to go somewhere fun. But you're just sitting here like a lump on a log!"

_Least I never got goblin slobber on me, _Sarah thought, viciously. She ignored Jessica and put the cap on the ice cream. No more of that or she'd make herself sick.

"I just don't feel like going anywhere," Sarah answered. "Maybe next time?"

Jessica sighed, turned to go, then paused and said, "If there was something really wrong, you'd tell me, right Sarah?"

"Of course," Sarah said. "We're friends." _But there's no way I could explain the Labyrinth to you, or anyone. _She watched as Jessica left, then locked the door behind her friend and leaned against it, sighing. What was wrong with her? Why was this affecting her so much? Oh yes, because she had fallen in love with the Goblin King. More fool her; she should have realized he couldn't be trusted. When had he ever been trustworthy?

_"All those years you'd call to your friends in that mirror but never…never the Goblin King."_ Yeah, it was painful seeing that expression on Jareth's face, but what did he think would happen when she learned he'd tricked her again? Trusting the Goblin King had taken a while, a bit of magic, a night of baking…

Sarah's lips quirked into a smile despite herself when she thought of that night, and the hot kisses…the _very _hot kisses. She sighed, cupping her face in her hands and holding back tears. She'd shed enough tears over him.

A small sound—like a scurrying, scratching noise—made Sarah look up and around her apartment, but nothing seemed out of place. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, until she heard a low chortle and sighed.

"Guys, I'm really not in the mood for goblin mayhem, I'm warning you right now."

More scurrying noises, and low whispers.

"Come out or go home," Sarah said, her voice firm.

After a few moments, two goblins stepped out and she identified them as Jeebo and Mort. She relaxed, glad there wasn't a horde of them. She said, "What are you doing here?"

"Sssh! We undercover," Jeebo answered, putting a tiny, green finger to his lips. "We not here at all."

"Oh, okay." Sarah grinned, the first real smile she'd had in three days, since she'd left the Labyrinth. Trust goblins to make her feel better. "So why are you not here?"

"We came to talk to Sarah," Mort said in his tinny voice, his eyes wide and cute as always. He came up to her, jumping on the sofa, and touched her knee. "We miss Sarah."

Sarah's eyes filled with tears and she furiously blinked them back. She said, her voice shaky, "Yeah, I miss you guys too."

"Then why you leave?" Jeebo asked, annoyed.

Sarah shook her head. "I really don't wanna talk about it, guys. Where's the rest of you? I got the impression goblins traveled in packs."

Jeebo shrugged. "Kingy said we can't visit no more. But we decided to go undercover and see Sarah again."

"Ah." Sarah picked at a loose thread on her shirt and muttered, "So the King's forbid anyone from the Labyrinth from seeing me?"

"Yeah, Kingy pretty mad."

Sarah nodded. Well, that wasn't surprising. "Aren't you afraid he'll get mad at you if you visit me?"

"We snuck off when Kingy was with a wisher."

"Oh. Someone's running the Labyrinth?"

"Always more wishers during this time," Mort said. "Something 'bout Christmas." Mort pouted. "We didn't get to finish the Christmas feast!"

"What happened to it after I left?"

"Nothin', Kingy just stormed off and left everyone," Mort said, sighing. "Sarah left, Kingy left. Only goblins and Laby-folk celebrating…not the same. Not the same at all."

"Sorry 'bout that, guys, but—you know—the Goblin King and I'll probably never see eye-to-eye."

"That's 'cause you're overthinkin' it," Hoggle's voice said, causing Sarah to jump. She looked up at the circular mirror she'd hung near the doorway and in the surface was Hoggle's wrinkled, yet familiar face. He looked as disgruntled as always, and next to him stood Sir Didymus.

Sarah smiled. "Hoggle, Sir Didymus—"

"Sarah, we can't talk long. The King's ruled that no one may contact you," Sir Didymus said. "But you left so suddenly…"

Sarah opened her mouth to apologize, but then closed it. She'd apologized enough, and although she felt pretty guilty for leaving her friends, she also knew it had been the only thing she could do.

"Sarah," Hoggle said, "Jareth's a no-good louse. A sneak, a cheat—"

"Yeah, I know, Hoggle. I should have listened to you since the beginning. You were always saying how much of a trickster Jareth was—"

"I ain't finished," Hoggle said, gruffly. "I don' wanna say this, 'cause I don' like 'im, but…for some reason the King likes _you_."

"A lot," Sir Didymus added.

"Yeah? So? Since when does that excuse tricking me and possibly trying to trap me in the Underground?"

Hoggle sighed and Sir Didymus nudged him. They conferred it low voices—too low for Sarah to hear, although she did catch Hoggle say, impatiently, "Yeah, yeah. I'm doin' it, aren't I?"—then turned back to her. Hoggle said, "I can'ts believe I'm trying to talk ya into forgivin' him—"

"Is that what you're trying to do? 'Cause don't," Sarah answered.

"Sarah," Sir Didymus said, kindly, "how old do you think Jeebo is?"

Sarah glanced at the goblin, with his greenish hued skin, his wide head sprinkled with tufts of gray hair. Currently he was wearing a Viking-esque helmet with tiny horns and ragged clothes. His hands and feet were proportionally large; his nails yellow. He stared back at her with brown eyes and grinned from ear-to-ear, showing off crooked, yellowing teeth, the incisors pointed.

"I have no idea."

"Two hundred and fifty-eight," Sir Didymus said, calmly.

Sarah glanced at him, but he was serious. She looked back at the goblin, whose chest puffed out with pride. He said, "I one of the youngest!"

"How old do you think Mort is?" Sir Didymus asked.

"I don't know…five hundred?" Sarah guessed, impatiently. "What does this have to do—?"

"You're close," Sir Didymus interrupted. "Mort is four hundred and eight. I'm three hundred and twenty-two…I have no idea how old Hoggle is—"

"And you ain't gonna!"

"No one in the Labyrinth ages…like their king. And he's been around for much, much longer than any of the inhabitants," Sir Didymus said, softly. "Hundreds upon hundreds of years—maybe thousands. No one knows. And in all the time _I've _been alive, no one has won the game. No one has found their way to the end of the Labyrinth. And no one has come back to the Underground. You're older than me, Hoggle. Do you remember the King inviting anyone to the Underground?"

"Naw," Hoggle answered.

"Kingy _never _invites no one," Jeebo said, "he keeps kingdom runnin' all by himself."

Sarah wanted to shake off their words. She wanted to ignore them; to rant and rage about the fact that if you loved someone, you couldn't always be wondering what they'd do next. You had to be able to _trust _them. But Sir Didymus's words sobered her. She glanced at Jeebo and Mort, two cute and mischievous goblins who had been that way for _hundreds _of years. She glanced at Sir Didymus and Hoggle. She was willing to bet that the dog had always been knightly and honorable and Hoggle had always been disgruntled with a penchant for shiny jewelry and knickknacks.

Did anything change in the Labyrinth…except the King? The Goblin King, who was the only one of his kind in all his kingdom.

_It sounds…lonely, _Sarah thought. And if he was the only one, never interacting with another person until some wisher selfishly called upon the Goblin King's services, what would that do to a person? Would the person loose the knack of interacting? Did Jareth only remember how to be kind because he was King to his subjects?

"He loves you, Sarah," Sir Didymus said.

Sarah looked up, sharply. Her eyes narrowed. "He's never said—"

Hoggle threw up his hands in exasperation. "He don't have to! Why do you think he wants ta be able ta call you _back?_"

Sarah licked her suddenly dry lips and said, "That's no excuse to trick me." But, her voice seemed plaintive even in her own ears, and her argument didn't seem that important. It almost seemed childish now. It wasn't fair, she didn't want to sympathize with the Goblin King.

"So tell him—_show _him," Sir Didymus said. "He won't know otherwise."

Mort touched Sarah's knee again and she glanced at the little goblin with the huge eyes. He said, softly, "Sarah's our Queen."

Sarah blinked. "I…" Oh boy, she was scared. Mort's words scared her. Queen of the Underground? Her? Is that the cost of loving the Goblin King? She didn't know if she wanted to be Queen, but she knew she loved Jareth…would always love him. Now that her anger and self-pity had dissipated, now that she really _thought _about it, Sir Didymus was right. Her temper had flared, as it was known to do, and she'd reacted from her hurt pride. But, she didn't know if she was ready for the responsibility of loving the Goblin King.

But, she might never be ready. Was she willing to lose Jareth over her misgivings?

Sarah sighed, stretching her legs out and said, thoughtfully, "I guess I should talk to him." She looked at the goblins. "Can you guys take me to the Underground?"

They looked away, sheepish, and Jeebo said, "Can't."

"Can't?" Sarah blinked in surprise. "Why not?"

"You gave back ring. You said words—"

"The Goblin King has no power over you," Sir Didymus added, from the mirror. "And neither does his subjects."

"He's told us not ta meddle," Hoggle said.

"But he came back at Christmas!"

"You wished fer it," Hoggle answered.

Jeebo scratched his chin, his mouth turned down in a sad frown. He said, "We gotta go, Sarah. We wanted to visit. We try to visit again—"

"Don't go yet!" Sarah suddenly felt an irrational fear, like if they left her, they'd never come back. She realized she _wanted _the magic of the Underground in her life; she _needed _it. Now that she'd brought it back, she couldn't let it go again. But Jeebo and Mort were sadly trudging to her shoe closet and when she glanced at her mirror, she was horrified to find that Sir Didymus and Hoggle's images were fading. She wanted to run up and try to grab them, but she knew she couldn't.

She said, her voice teary, "Don't go yet…"

"Sarah, think on what we've said. You must decide," Sir Didymus said.

"Once ya decide if ya wanna be part o'the Underground, ya can't change yer mind," Hoggle added. "Ya gotta decide and ya gotta _want_ it."

"And then? What do I do then?"

"Make a wish…and hope it comes true…"

The mirror faded back, reflecting only her living room. The shoe closet opened and she watched as Jeebo and Mort walked inside and shut it behind them. She waited a second before leaping up from the sofa and running to the closet. She wrenched it open and looked inside, but saw only her neatly piled shoes and her coat on the rod. She poked at the junk cluttered on the top shelf, but there were no goblins hiding. She closed the door and looked around her apartment.

Had it always been so empty? Sarah stood in the center of her living room, listening to the silence.

# # # #

The bushes at the edge of the garden rustled and Jareth looked up, his eyes narrowing as he waited. He knew his refuge wouldn't have stayed quiet for long. He enjoyed this spot, located just outside the Labyrinth. There was a little fountain made out of rich marble; bushes lined the high walls of the Labyrinth.

A wall on one side, but on the other was the whole world; an expanse of golden sand, craggily foliage, and piercingly blue skies. Sarah had never seen the Underground like that; she'd never stayed long enough to truly witness its beauty. When she had been fifteen, Jareth had aimed to intimidate—he was trying to win the game, after all, especially in the beginning—so the skies had been overcast and filled with thunder, the land had looked half-dead or dying, and the foliage had been sparse.

He was lucky the goblins hadn't found him yet. The fairies that flittered around were annoying enough, constantly trying to get right up into his face. He'd wave at them angrily, like they were pesky flies. Trying to find solitude when being the Goblin King was very difficult.

Jareth lifted up the crystal paper weight Sarah had given him. He twirled it in his hand, much like he did his magic crystals, but the paper weight held no magic. And yet, it was something he couldn't let go of. When he'd sent Sarah back, he'd stormed back into the ball room and seen the present. It had been tempted to grab it and hurl it at the wall, but he just couldn't make himself destroy it.

It was the only thing Sarah had ever given him _freely_.

The bushes rustled again and with a flick of his wrist, Jareth magicked the paper weight away; back to his room, where it perched on a little cradle on his chest of drawers. He heard some whisperings, low and angry, then all of a sudden the dwarf stumbled out.

"Hodgehead, I am not in the mood right now," Jareth growled, his voice full of warning.

The dwarf snorted. "I wish I didn' have to talk to ya, but I gots no choice." He glared at the bush, which rustled almost encouragingly. The dwarf sighed and sidled towards Jareth, who watched him through narrowed, suspicion-filled eyes.

"Then I suggest you don't talk. I suggest you leave."

"Wish I could," the dwarf said, stopping in front of Jareth and crossing his arms over his barrel-shaped chest, "but _someone _won' leave off 'till I talk to ya. _He _thinks I'm better at bein' persuasive."

"And what do you think?" Jareth asked.

"I think this is a waste o'time. You two'll fix your problems or ya won't. Why drag myself inta this mess?"

"How wise for a…dwarf," Jareth said. He propped his chin on his hand and added, casually, "I suppose when you speak of 'you two,' you mean myself and Sarah?"

"Yeah."

"I _definitely_ do not wish to speak of Sarah and if you insist on doing so, I won't be held responsible for what I do—or _where _I'll send you. The darkest, deepest oubliette…or the very center of the bog. Would you like to find out?" Jareth asked, cheerfully.

The dwarf's eyes widened and he shrunk back a step, then said in a shaky voice, "Y-ya don't scare me, Jareth."

Obviously not enough. Only the dwarf had ever been brave enough to say his first name—well, except for Sarah. Jareth's lip curled. He had enjoyed being alone so much more.

"What _is_ it, Hogswort?"

The dwarf glanced back at the bushes, which rustled encouragingly again. With a sigh, he said, "Ya gotta forgive Sarah."

"What?" Jareth's voice dropped a few octaves in warning and he knew his blonde hair was gaining dark threads from his growing anger. Hadn't he told this pipsqueak he didn't want to speak about _her? _Why did it always have to be her? If he felt nothing for Sarah, his life would be so much better! He had felt nothing _before _her, why couldn't he go back to that?

"I—I mean, she don't—don't come from around here. She don't know the ways, so ya gotta forgive her."

"You are skating on very thin ice, Hogmunch. I have no _desire _to recount her recent behavior—or anything having to do with her at all."

"But—"

"Leave me," Jareth ordered.

To his surprise, the dwarf shuddered for a few moments but then instead of running off, he straightened his back and said, "No, not 'til ya hear me out."

"Since when did my kingdom become a democracy?" Jareth hissed. "I am your _king, _you must obey me!"

"Yer bein' a fool!" the dwarf yelled, then his eyes widened when he realized what he had said. If Jareth hadn't been so angry, he would have felt amusement as seeing how wide the dwarf's eyes could go, like twin saucers or golf balls about to fall from the sockets. The dwarf cowered and quickly said, "I mean, er, I'm sorry yer majesty. Don't hurts me! I just—I just—I just _meant_—"

"Yes?" Jareth growled, between clenched teeth.

"I just _meant_ that ya gots to see it from her point o'view."

"Why? Why must I?"

"Well, if'n ya want to ever have 'er here," Hoggle said. "If'n the Underground ever's gonna get its Queen—oh yes," he added, seeing Jareth's expression, "everyone's in agreement there. We want Sarah."

"Sarah doesn't want us, you little fool!" Jareth said, and winced at how he sounded. Angry, but definitely in pain, like a wounded animal. He hated himself at that moment; hated his weakness. He sat back and tried for nonchalance, and said in a calmer voice, "Sarah doesn't want us."

"Sarah don' know what yer like. Ya can't go 'round doin' magic tricks on 'er. She don' understand the Underground. She wasn' here very long last time."

"She understands enough."

"Ya think?" the dwarf shot back. "After all this time? And her not even grown when she was last here?"

"What are you saying, Higgles?" Jareth asked, tiredly. He rubbed his forehead, where a headache was forming. "What do you and that little traitor think I should do?"

The dwarf hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the bush again. It rustled and for a moment, Jareth could swear he saw a furred paw poke out. Those two had not been truly his subjects since Sarah had come to the Labyrinth. At one time, he thought he'd allow a Queen's Guard for the dog to join. At one time, when there'd been hope.

The dwarf glared at the bush, then sighed and said, "Forgive 'er and try again."

"No."

"Ya gotta, Jareth, 'cause we had too much fun. We won't give 'er up, even if we gotta disobey your orders."

"What else is new?" Jareth muttered. "Leave me, Hodgeworth, and take your friend with you."

"It's Hoggle," the dwarf said, but finally listened to him. He went back to the bush and disappeared within its depths. Jareth knew they snuck through the foliage back to the Labyrinth.

He called back the crystal paper weight and twirled it on his fingertips. _If you look at it just so, it'll show you your dreams…_

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Merry Christmas everyone! I'm popping on to quickly give you this little X-mas present. I agonized over whether to upload the whole last chapter (making it a nice 13 chapters for the story), but it was a surprisingly long chapter (the characters had more to say than I initially thought) and since there's a time jump, I decided to cut the last chapter in two. So, next time...Sarah makes a decision! How will the Goblin King react? Can Sarah deal with the responsibility of being part of the Underground? ;)

**Please read & review!~ **I enjoyed writing this chapter, although it has some things I usually don't do. Pep talks from residents of the Underground, for example. And I usually avoid writing prolonged scenes involving Sarah's friends - Didymus, Hoggle, and Ludo - because I feel I don't do them justice and they always seem like cardboard cut-outs. I hope I've written a believable scene between Sarah and her friends. I hope they didn't sound too counselor-y (yes, I did just make that an adjective). Let me know! All suggestions/comments welcome! :)

And now for a few shout-outs:

**tomoe-gozen52: **It's what Hoggle's good at, saying the stuff no one else would think to say...the bad stuff. :P

**lonely27:** Yes, I know. What did happen to the cheeriness? Well, it'll be back. :)

**O'Gowan1935:** Thank you for the wonderful compliment! :)

**nemo:** I know, both of them are in a tough situation. I think you're one of the few who said you'd side with Sarah, though. :)

**VampireMafiaQueen: **Glad I could brighten your day! :)

**notwritten: **Indeed, they do need to learn not to take everything so seriously.

**Cybernetic Mango: **I know, I've been AWOL, but hey, better late than never right?

**penny95: **Ouch, harsh. Bratty! But Sarah has a point. How can she trust the Goblin King?

**daughterofthe1king:** Sarah always had that problem, she never could see the bigger picture. Her time in the Labyrinth showed her how to, but she definitely needs to practice the skill.

**THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO LEFT COMMENTS! **I always enjoy reading them and they definitely encourage me to write faster. :P I found it amusing that more people seemed to be on Jareth's side. Poor Sarah, she can't battle the Jareth lovers! ;)

* * *

_Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing regarding the Labyrinth except for my own original characters. This story has been made for your enjoyment, but please keep it here in its original form; do not take, alter, copy, or re-post it without my permission beforehand. Thank you!_


	14. Fireworks

**Chapter Fourteen: Fireworks **

With an explosion, the sky bloomed with red, purple, and green sparkly lights. Sarah sighed. The beautiful fireworks always managed to make her smile. The fireworks fell away, the glittery bits falling out of the sky like fairy dust.

Another firework cluster soared with a sizzle and a hiss before exploding. Sarah watched the fireworks reflected in the water and hugged herself, rubbing her arms through the thick coat. It was another cold night; she wore the long johns over jeans, a sweater top, and a thick coat. She'd added a scarf, mittens, and a fuzzy hat.

Despite that, the cold bit at her. She felt it along her cheekbones and nose, which was quickly going numb. But, she'd stand here until the very last firework hit the sky.

She felt conflicted. _Conflicted, _she thought with a wry smile as another bright burst of color blazed across the sky. _That's putting it mildly. Why am I out here again?_

Oh yes, because she couldn't get the damn Goblin King out of her head. She couldn't stop remembering the Christmas feast; the mistletoe on the ceiling; his expressions when he kissed her or talked to her; them baking delicious concoctions; his gentle side when she was drunk on goblin grog; his tight pants and outrageous wardrobe choices; his dancing and kicking and tantrums. Goddamnit, she couldn't forget _him_. She'd been pining like a pathetic…well, she wasn't sure what was more pathetic than the way she'd been acting the last few days. Jessica had been right. And then, as she'd dug into a carton of chocolate-chocolate-chip ice cream, she realized that she would love the Goblin King until the day she died.

_Stupid Goblin King, _Sarah thought, sneering at the sky. She'd like to sock him in the face. How dare he…be so irresistible? How was she supposed to avoid falling in love with him when he baked with her and watched over her when she was drunk from goblin grog? She'd been so angry with him, but as the days had crawled by, the anger had dissipated into self-pity, and then finally understanding.

"_He loves you, Sarah." _If he did, what did that mean? What would it be like to be loved by the Goblin King?

Her devious side whispered, _Remember when he said he fed you a poisoned peach to meet you? How many boyfriends would give you ballroom dreams to meet you?_

_Or feed a person a poisoned peach? _Sarah's lips twisted downward. _Is there a point? Or are you just repeating things I already know?_

_What I'm saying is: you'll never know what it'll be like to be with him…unless you try being with him! _Her devious side pointed out, triumphantly.

Well, Sarah couldn't argue with that. She took a deep breath. Suddenly, fireworks burst to life; a whole slew of them, one after another, until the colors sparkled so brightly it almost hurt to look at. The crowd "oohed" and "aahed" as the grand finale exploded in a shower of sparks. Sarah glanced at her wristwatch. 11:59, just a minute before the New Year. Her heart pounded as she watched the fireworks, wondering why Jareth hadn't come yet. He'd loved the fireworks before, and she'd mentioned they were doing them again on New Year's. She'd been so _sure _he'd show up. But, as the clock blinked 12:00 and the last of the finale budded across the sky—flowers of pinks, purples, greens, blues, reds, and golds—Sarah felt her heart sink.

He wasn't coming. He'd given up on her. It was over.

Sarah clutched the railing, for the first time noticing how frigidly _cold _she was, and tried to keep the tears at bay. She tried so hard, her breath came out in a harsh gasp.

_Why? How could he give up on me? _She had no way to get to the Underground, unless she saw a goblin. Or maybe Hoggle or Sir Didymus would tell her how to get to the Castle? What had she done last time to make Jareth show up?

She shivered as her mind supplied the answer, and she nearly kicked herself with how stupid she was to forget. She hadn't wished yet. _If I wish, there's no going back_. Wishes weren't meant to be spoken lightly. She'd be admitting to the Goblin King that she wanted him.

Sarah released the railing and twisted her hands nervously, uncertain for a moment. Then her jaw set and she straightened her shoulders. Who was she kidding? She was just prolonging things. The fireworks were over, people were leaving; soon she'd have to leave, too.

It was a New Year.

Sarah tipped her head back, looking over the lake, and whispered, "I wish the Goblin King was here…right now."

She inhaled and waited. And she felt the world shift slowly—or maybe it had momentarily sputtered and then restarted. She heard that achingly familiar voice say, "As always, I wait with baited breath for your command, Sarah."

Sarah's breath _whooshed _out, causing a white cloud to swirl from her mouth. She didn't turn to face the voice, just in case—_just in case_—it was a dream. But, her heartbeat picked up and she felt her knees wobble with her relief. She hadn't been sure he would come answer her wish.

She momentarily shut her eyes and grabbed her courage metaphorically by both hands. Courage; yes, it would take quite a bit for her to say what she needed to say. She said, her voice husky and soft, "You know, it came to me in a bright, clear flash of understanding—"

"What did, Sarah?" he said, his lilting, accented voice traveling easily over the commotion of the people shifting and moving toward the parking lot. She wondered how close he was to her. A few feet? Less? She felt tingles jumping along her back; knew that he was staring intently at her. She didn't care that his voice sounded impatient, angry. She knew what she had to say, and come rain or shine, or pesky goblins, she would say it.

"You said in the Escher room you watched me leap for my brother and…and then you trailed off. I figured out what you were going to say," Sarah murmured, her heart thudded in her chest, and yet the quicker she said her peace, the easier it became; the words seemed to fall from her lips, like they had been poised and waiting all this time, just wishing to be spoken and released. She whirled, suddenly needing to see his face as she said the next words.

He was beautiful, of course, and resplendently attired. He wore a black poet's shirt over black pants and a black cloak, except the cloak glittered with dark gems sewn into it. Any other man would have been questioned trying to pull off such a _glimmering _look, but Jareth was just magnificent. Mist swirled about him, and his cloak shifted and danced in a wind that seemed to touch only him. No one else paid attention to him, yet no one seemed to come near him.

His face seemed taut, distrustful, which accentuated the harsh planes of his face. His mismatched eyes glittered and his lips were pulled into a thin line. He waited.

Sarah licked her lips and said in a croak, despite her earlier confidence, "You love me."

Jareth's eyebrow flicked up. "Excuse me?"

She had to hand it to him; Jareth knew how to play the part. He pulled off Incredulously Disdainful very well. If she didn't know better—if she didn't notice the way his right hand clenched and the barely restrained, coiled energy in his stance—she might have believed her words meant nothing to him.

But words had power, didn't they?

As long as someone listened to them.

Sarah took a deep, shuddering breath and continued, doggedly. "You were going to admit that, weren't you? That you love me? When did you start to love me? Maybe when I jumped for my brother, knowing I could very well fall and break my neck? Or maybe when I refused everything you offered me?"

Jareth's face darkened with rage, but Sarah continued: "Or maybe it was when I said the Labyrinth was a piece of cake?"

"Stop this, Sarah."

Sarah ignored him. "Or maybe when we danced in the peach dream? Or perhaps it was even before, when you warned me to turn back and I ignored you?"

"Stop!" Jareth took a threatening step forward, both hands clenched into angry fists now. He glowered at her, the wind whipping his clothes and hair back. The cloak billowed out like black wings, and he looked very intimidating indeed.

Sarah smiled. She had him now; she had his full attention. And she knew what she had to do, regardless of the fact that she was very afraid to say the words, and to admit the truth behind them. But, sometimes you had to do things that frightened you. She had learned that when she was fifteen.

Like face down a villainous king.

Like admiting she loved him.

Sarah said, her voice trembling, "I'll tell you when _I _realized I loved you—"

Jareth's expression froze, shock making his eyes widen in disbelief.

"It was when you helped a poor girl, drunk on goblin grog, back to her bed."

Had she just imagined Jareth's lips twitch? Sarah took it as a good sign. But, she took another deep breath, and added, "I wasn't lying when I said I didn't know how I could trust you, though. Jareth, you can't lie or cheat to 'get' me or whatever. I have to come to you."

"Is that what you're doing, Precious?" Jareth murmured, taking a step forward. "Are you willingly coming to me?"

"I wished for you, didn't I?"

"You did before—and then you wished yourself away."

Sarah shrugged. "I'm only human. I was angry—and you were a jerk." She took a step forward, as well, moving away from the railing toward him. She felt the edge of the wind that played across Jareth's clothes; a cool breeze that seemed to chortle and dance around the Goblin King. He looked every inch the overpowering monarch, and yet she wasn't intimidated. She kept her gaze locked on his and said, "Promise me there'll be no more tricks."

"I promise," Jareth said, quickly, taking another step.

"And no more cheating—"

"I promise."

"And no more scheming," Sarah said, taking another step, moving close enough that there was only a few inches of space between them. The wind had died away the closer she got, and now she felt the heat radiating off his body.

Jareth smiled and reached out to touch her hair, letting a lock of it run through his fingers. "Ah, now you ask for the impossible. The Goblin King is always scheming. But I can promise that you'll enjoy my…_schemes_." He pulled back his hand, his face growing serious as he considered her for a moment. He said, "Though, I wonder, Sarah…what _are _you offering me?"

"Forever," Sarah said, and took that final step. She cupped his face and kissed him. It was a tender kiss, just the barest pressure upon his lips, and just as she hoped, the Goblin King took the bait. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. His tongue teased along her lips, until she opened her mouth to him. She murmured appreciatively against his mouth as he expertly kissed her, and in that kiss, told her everything she needed to know about his feelings.

She broke away with a smug smile and said, again, "You love me."

Jareth shook his head and sighed dramatically. "I love you, Sarah. My infuriating, precious Sarah. What on earth changed your mind? I was quite sure that I would never see you again, let alone hear you wish for me."

Sarah just shrugged. "I suppose I realized that sometimes the way forward is the way back."

Jareth blinked, surprised, then tipped back his head and laughed. Sarah shuddered. The sound was so unlike anything she'd heard from him—so completely raw and honest—and he was ten times more beautiful when he smiled like that. But she decided not to let him know; his ego was already too huge.

She glanced at his tight pants. Yes, his _ego_…

"And where should we go from here?" Jareth asked, momentarily confusing Sarah. Had the Goblin King suddenly become a mind reader? But, his next words were, "Shall I offer you your dreams again, Precious?"

"No need," Sarah said. "Let's take it one day at a time. After all, we've got a whole New Year…and if I remember correctly, you did promise me goblin fireworks."

"Indeed I did," Jareth said, amused. "I'm sure they'll enjoy that. They love fire so. It'll keep them distracted when we want to sneak away for some private time."

Sarah felt a warm tingle in her belly at the way Jareth smirked at her. She supposed she should find the smirk annoying, but it was so deliciously _lecherous_ she just couldn't feel anything besides eagerness.

She teased, "Who said anything about sneaking away? I like fireworks."

Jareth leaned forward and whispered in her ear, causing his breath to tickle along the shell of her ear and making her shudder, "I'll give you a much better show than the goblins ever could."

"Promise?" Sarah said, breathlessly.

"Oh _yes_," Jareth said, his voice dipping huskily and making her shudder again.

Sarah was suddenly feeling very warm—almost hot really—which caused her mind to spark and reform from the lustful goo it had become and remember something very important. Sarah cleared her throat and said, "Before we do any sneaking away, I need to go to the bathroom."

Jareth's eyebrows rose. He said, "You don't have that strange, long garment on, do you? I told you it was optional."

"Jareth!" Sarah flushed. "I am so _not _answering that!"

Jareth grinned and buried his hand in her hair, cupping the back of her head, so that he could pull her close for a ravishingly deep kiss that took her breath away and left her a little dizzy. By the smug look on his face, he'd received the reaction he'd been hoping for. Oh boy, being with the Goblin King was going to be a handful.

Jareth conjured a crystal, balancing it on his fingertips. "Make a wish, love. For the New Year."

Sarah looked into the crystal and smiled. She said, "I wish the Goblin King would take me away—right now!"

And they disappeared in a puff of glitter.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** And so ends this little Christmas tale, which I meant to finish more than a year ago! Funny how life turns out. Looking back at the first few chapters, I'm surprised at how much my writing style has changed. :) But, I hope you enjoyed this story and the ending. I want to thank all my wonderful readers, you truly were the encouragement that kept me going. I think this little fanfic leaves open some delicious possibilities for a sequel sometime in the future, no? Ah, I wonder how my muse will react to THAT (if it does happen, and you are interested, I suggest author subscribing me so when I post a story, you'll get an update via your email)? :)

And like Sarah said, it is a New Year. Let's take one day at a time and live it to the fullest. May 2011 be a happy, wonderful year for everyone!

**_Please read & review!_** How did you like the ending? Happy that Jareth and Sarah worked their differences out? Remember, any comments/questions/suggestions will be relished and replied to. :)

If you liked my story, I encourage you to read my others. If you'd like to know more about my writing process, my life, commentary on the fanfics, etc. then check out my site, Cordite Quill's Corner. The link is on my author profile page. See you soon, wonderful readers! :)

And finally, here are a few shout-outs:

_Lumissne:_ Hope this ending was suitably dramatic and fluffy. :)

_tomoe-gozen52: _I wanted to add Jessica, but in the end it turned into just a scene between Jareth and Sarah. However, if I write a sequel sometime, it'll definitely have the infamous Jessica. Oh, and I think all writers hear voices. It's a side effect of the profession/hobby. :P

_jensulli11: _I know in real life someone as stubborn as Jareth would be really frustrating, but somehow in fiction it always ends up being strangely endearing. :D I definitely have fun writing him as stubborn - and Sarah. They are similar in quite a few ways.

_Celestine Sane: _Nice critique. Honestly, Sir Didymus says Sarah a few times because it got tiring hearing "milady" all the time. But, you do make a good point. Oof! It was so difficult to write that chapter! lol

_VampireMafiaQueen: _*blush* Thanks for the wonderful compliments...and I'll hold you to that promise. I'm working on the final edits of a manuscript right now. ;)

* * *

_Disclaimer:_ As always, I own nothing when it comes to the Labyrinth or Jareth (*sniffle*) or Sarah. I only own my original characters. This fanfiction is meant for entertainment purposes only. Please do not repost without my permission beforehand.


End file.
